A POINT OF HONOR. 


A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. 




//■ 


By Nathan Mayer. 


PRINTED AS MANUSCRIPT. 


HARTFORD, CONN.: 

Press of The Case, Lockwood & Brainard Company. 





















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A POINT OF HONOR. 

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A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. 


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HARTFORD, CONN.: 

Press of The Case, Lockwood & Brainard Company. 




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COPYRIGHTED, 1884, 
'by 

NATHAN MAYER. 


JMWO* . 0 66^'5’E’^' 



PERSONS. 


Mr. John Sturgis, a banker. 

Paul Stafford, his nephew. 

Hon. Arthur Courtney, a young Englishman. 

Dr. Pellet, a physician who believes in his own medicines. 
Jack Harwinton, a gentleman decayed with gambling. 
Ethel Fairchild, an orphan. 

Mrs. Harwinton, a lady of society. 

Miss Emily Douglas, an American girl of fortune. 

A servant. 


The first act takes place at a watering-place near New 
York. The second, in the parlor of a fashionable residence 
in the city. The third, in the reception-room of the same. 
The fourth, on the Esplanade at Monte Carlo. 















A POINT OF HONOR. 


ACT I. 

Scene. — The scene represents the parlor of a fashionable hotel 
at a watering-place. The furniture is very elegant , in light 
colors , blue and white stripe , or blue covered with white lace ; 
the icalls are in blue with silver ornamentation , or lace drapery , 
divided by slender white pillars ; at the baclc , large , open, fold¬ 
ing door leading to the veranda ; white statuettes on pedestals 
on either side of the folding door inside ; some foliage outside , 
or just at posts , as from plants in pots. Glimpse of the sea 
beyond. Three small tables on the stage , and a vase on a 
pedestal , icith flowers. 

Scene I.— Mrs. Harwinton and Ethel Fairchild. Mrs. 
Harwinton sits on a sofa to the left, with fan and novel. 
Ethel on a low stool near her , with some worsted work of a 
coloi ' contrasting with her dress. 

Mrs. H. ( languidly ). Ethel, this is positive stagnation. 
I am dying for a change. We must take a trip to Europe. 

Ethel ( looking up). Then, why don’t we go, dear Mrs. 
Harwinton? 

Mrs. H. Why don’t we go? Because we are fulfilling 
our destiny as American women of society. The summer 
hotel is one of its severest obligations. It is tiresome, but 
the conventional cottage is even more so. However, our set 
is here, and so are we. 

Ethel ( earnestly ). Oh, but I enjoy this so much! I have 
been secluded for more than a year, you know, and my heart 
has been very heavy. Now that I live with you, and know 
that kindness and friendship still exist, the world has grown 
fair again. ( Takes Mrs. H.’s hand.) 

Mrs. H. (kindly). The world should always be fair to the 
young. There are two magicians that transfigure everything 
they smile upon. 

Ethel. And these are—? 

Mrs. H. {rising and going to center). Youth and the sun. 
I worship both as can only a woman who will presently grow 

1 * 





6 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


old, and who never freckles or tans. But we are really deso¬ 
late, here. 

Ethel (picking up Mrs. H.’s look and her own work , and 
rising). Quite. The hotel is crowded, and we know every¬ 
body worth the trouble. (Mockingly) A desert without an 
oasis! 

Mrs. H. Exactly. Ladies are always desolate when they 
have no gentlemen in immediate attendance. Ethel, why 
don’t you organize a court of admirers? 

Ethel (rising). Thanks. A single one would be suffi¬ 
cient. I will smile graciously upon the doctor — 

Mrs. H. And fall a victim to his pills. (Glances in the 
direction of the door.) He is coming. Who can be with him? 
(Ethel turns half around.) Why, Miss Douglas. 

Scene II.— Enter Dr. Pellet, followed ly Arthur Court¬ 
ney and Miss Emily Douglas. The ladies exchange greet¬ 
ings^ and Miss D. and Ethel remain in the center rear , 
chatting , attended ly Arthur. Dr. P. stands near Mrs. H., 
who resumes her seat. 

Dr. Pellet. Good morning, ladies; good morning. 

Mrs. H. Good morning, Doctor. Have you just arrived? 
Dr. P. Many pardons! Yes; with the boat. I met 
quite a peculiar character on board — an idealized specimen 
of the cowboy. Many pardons, Mrs. Harwinton; how do 
you feel? (Feels her pulse.) Slow; languid; it must be the 
liver! (Takes out of his Ireast-pocket a case of parvules, and 
offers a pill.) Pray accept a parvule. 

Mrs. H. (smiling). It is not the liver, Doctor; I am quite 
well, but I am bored. 

Dr. P. (gallantly). Then I must offer myself to amuse 
you. Many pardons! Pray accept— (Offers his arm ; Mrs. 
H., rising , is about to take it.) 

Arthur (in center , to the young ladies, drawling). Treats 
the case awfully homoeopathic. 

Miss Douglas. How is that? (Turning to Arthur.) 
Arthur. Like cures like — 

Miss D. (to Doctor). Tell us of your cowboy. Is he 
coming here? 

Dr. P. Precisely. Permit me to say that he is entirely 
savage. (Solemnly.) In the whole course of his life he has 
never taken a parvule. He is looking for Mr. Sturgis. 
Many pardons, ladies; allow me to escort you to the veranda. 
We may see him. 

Mrs. H. (rising). Anything for a sensation. Come, 
Ethel. (She takes the Dr.’s right arm.) 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


7 


Miss Douglas. And you are deserting me, Doctor! Me, 
who have taken so many of your parvules! 

Dr. P. Many pardons! May I offer my left arm? 

Miss D. I don’t want what is left. I will follow with 
Ethel. Good-bye, Mr. Courtney; I see the Times in your 
pocket. 

(A. Courtney bows them out , then casts himself into a chair on 
the right , and unfolds the paper.) 

Arthur. Doctor may be a very good doctor, but he is an 
ass. {Pause; then reflectively.) Still, women always have a 
weakness for doctors and for donkeys. {Gets behind paper .) 


Scene III.— Enter Paul Stafford, who gazes around as if in 

search of some one; then perceiving Arthur, he approaches 

him. 

Paul. I thought Mr. Sturgis was here. {To Arthur.) I 
beg your pardon. (Arthur drops paper.) What! Arthur 
Courtney? 

Arthur. In propria persona, Paul. 

Paul {astonished). To find you here , when I thought you 
at Oxford! 

Arthur. College too much for me. Greek went to my 
liver, and Philosophy to my stomach. 

Paul {tales seat opposite Arthur, laughing). When they 
should have gone to your brain! Are you in the States to 
recuperate? You should have visited me out West! 

Arthur (languidly). Yaas; I heard. Texan cattle ranch, 
that sort of thing. Did you like it? 

Paul (with enthusiasm). Like it? It is a glorious life. 
On horseback all day; all night in a sleep that can only be 
broken by a pistol-shot or a cattle stampede. Do your sum¬ 
mering there, Arthur, not in a fashionable hotel.. 

Arthur. Fashionable hotel is exciting, sometimes. What 
brings you? 

Paul. I came to meet my uncle, who is here. You recol¬ 
lect, Arthur, when we left Eton.— (Rising.) Do you think 
of those days yet? 

Arthur. Jolly times. Unlike Oxford. Muffs there. 

Paul (slowly to center). When we left Eton, my father 
was involved in a mining enterprise that swallowed up his 
fortune. He went to the Continent, broken-hearted, and 
died there. I came to New York, at Mr. Sturgis’s desire. 

Arthur. And went off again? 


8 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Paul. I had grown rapidly, and the climate did not 
agree with me. So I w T as sent West to Mr. Sturgis’s cattle 
ranch, and assisted the manager. I was there two years. 
Arthur. Awful glad to see you. What brings you back? 
Paul ( sitting down). Mr. Sturgis was taken sick, and 
wanted to see me. Having quickly recovered, he wishes me 
to remain with him. Pardon! I am looking for him. He 
may be in his room. ( Turns to veranda. Enter John Sturgis. 
Rising.) My dear uncle! 

Scene IV. 

Mr. Sturgis {astonished). Why, Paul! I am very glad 
to see you. How did you come? 

Paul. By the boat, just now. 

John Sturgis {in center). How is that? I waited for you 
at the landing. 

Paul {laughing). You waited for the slender boy that 
went West. You did not expect the young man who came 
back. 

Mr. St. True; your appearance has changed. 

Paul. And yours is as good as ever. I am happily dis¬ 
appointed. 

Mr. St. You probably expected to find a skeleton? No; 
my attack was short and sharp. 

{During this dialogue they have come forward and taken seats 
on opposite sides of the little table to the right front. Arthur 
Courtney, who has made business on the left , now steps 
forward.) 

Arthur. Awfully glad, Mr. Sturgis. Good-bye, Paul. 
Join the ladies. 

Mr. St. {with frigidity). Thank you, sir. 

{Exit Arthur by center rear.) 

Paul. One of my Eton classmates, Arthur Courtney. A 
good fellow. 

Mr. St. ( contemptuously). Good for what, I should like to 
know? But Paul, boy, you have indeed become a man! 

Paul. How could I help it? I suppose it was in me. 
And if the hills {rising) and the grasslands do not bring out 
the manhood in a fellow, what under Heaven should! 
Sturgis. 1 t ou liked it much? 

Paul. It was a new life to me. The riding and shooting, 
the new scenes, with their adventures of the chase, with the 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


9 


occasional alarm of Indians and marauders, were like the 
fulfillment of a dream. 

Mr. St. A dream from which you came near never* 
awakening. I heard of your first adventure. 

Paul. The stampede? (Very animated.') You cannot 
imagine it. Think of the close column of a thousand cattle, 
bellowing wildly and galloping toward you in crazy flight; 
their heads down, their tails in air, the dust like clouds 
around them, and I not aware of the danger till the last 
moment. You cannot imagine it — nor can I describe it. 

( Bits down.) 

Mr. St. {reflectively). I can imagine it. I have witnessed 
similar stampedes. I have stood in Wall Street, holding 
stock worth every cent of its quoting, and seen a lot of sense¬ 
less creatures galloping down upon it, in wild disregard of 
their own safety or any other man’s. I have seen it — and I 
have stopped them, or I should have been lost. Even as you 
stopped your cattle. 

Paul. By running with them for awhile! I want to see 
Wall Street. 

Mr. St. It will prove an astonishing spectacle, and not 
easily forgotten. {Rising and slowly pacing the stage.) This 
brings something to my mind, Paul, that I wish to say to 
you. I had a dear friend, well situated, a banker in Wall 
Street — as I am. Over a year ago I headed a combination 
to reorganize a railroad ruined by rival schemes. We cor¬ 
nered the street. Our operations succeeded entirely, and my 
friend, who headed the opposition, became one of the victims. 

Paul. He was ruined? 

Mr. St. He lost everything, and I made a million by the 
operation. 

Paul. It was not your fault. 

Mr. St. No ; it was not my fault. I knew not who was 
against me. But his fall was followed by an apoplectic 
stroke. 

Paul. Dead! 

Mr. St. Yes. Presumably an old trouble brought to a 
climax. 

Paul. I am so sorry. 

Mr. St. So am I. And however innocent I feel, I am 
hamuved by the idea of being an accessory. He has left a 
daughter — a young lady. 

Paul. You have explained to her — 

Mr. St. {stopping near Paul). That's what I want you to 
do. I cannot get myself into the proper condition. She is 
jienniless, and undoubtedly highly prejudiced against me. 

Paul. What can I do? 


10 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Mr. St. Explain to her the circumstances. How, when 
I discovered her father was working against us, it was too 
late to arrest affairs — even to save him. It would have 
ruined us both. 

Paul. And now? 

Mr. St. Now, I will give his daughter a fortune, and be 
to her what her father — once my dearest friend — would 
have been. 

Paul. Where is she? 

Mr. St. In this hotel. The paid companion of a lady 
whom I regard with the highest respect. 

Paul. And her name? 

Mr. St. Ethel Fairchild. She often rode on my knee. 
I was very fond of the little girl. Make my peace with her, 
Paul. 

Paul. Can I do it better than yourself? 

Mr. St. Young people know how to approach the young. 
Wc lose that tact as we advance in years. 

Paul. Mr. Sturgis, you are in the prime of life; you have 
not ceased to be young. But I will do my best. 

Mr. St. Thanks. I will see that you get introduced. 
And now I have business. My servant will attend to your 
luggage. We meet at dinner. 

{Exit Mr. St., after grasping Paul’s hand warmly.) 

Paul {alone). Queer. I am in for quite a diplomatic mis¬ 
sion. A fortune in one hand, the olive-branch in the other. 
I shall approach the little girl and say: “Prithee, take the 
reality for the shadow, the living friend, for the departed 
parent.” A Wall Street regret is not to be sneezed at! 

Scene V. — Enter Ethel. She starts , blushes , mahes business 
with a boolc on the little table , then, with sudden resolution , 
turns to Paul. 

Ethel. I beg pardon. Mr. Paul Stafford? 

Paul {astonished). At your service. 

Ethel. And you do not know me? 

Paul {icith hesitation). I am sorry. I think I recollect — 
Ethel {decidedly). You evidently do not. Do you re¬ 
member your first visit to New York? 

Paul. When I was a scliool-boy? Perfectly. I was 
greatly delighted. 

Ethel. And your stay at a country house on the Hudson? 
Your uncle was with you. 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


11 


Paul. Oh, of course. I beg pardon! ( With much ani¬ 
mation.) And the pretty little girl that kept me company — 
it was not you? 

Ethel {laughing). It was not I? Oh, no; it was only 
the beginning of me. You see I have grown, and am proud 
of it. But I am still Ethel Fairchild. 

Paul {with a start). Ethel Fairchild? And you recol¬ 
lected me? Why, I thought my own father would not have 
recognized me — I am so changed. 

Ethel. Perhaps not. But were your mother living, she 
would. 

Paul. Is a woman’s memory better than a man’s? 

Ethel. Yes; because a woman remembers with her heart. 

Paul. If so, then we are good friends. {Shakes hands 
with her.) I have been in Texas, on Mr. Sturgis’s cattle 
ranch; and return to find him under a dark spell. 

Ethel {turning away and sitting down). Mr. Sturgis does 
not interest me. 

Paul. I beg pardon. You interest him, greatly. 

Ethel. I prefer not to hear how. 

Paul. Grant me the favor — 

Ethel. Have you deserved it? 

Paul. No. Like the sinner, I have no merit on which 
to found a claim. 

Ethel {rising and going to right). Not the least; for you 
had entirely forgotten me. 

Paul. Indeed, no! Only, in my memory lives a wonder¬ 
ful little girl with sunny hair and white dresses, who romps 
among the roses. I find it difficult to develop a young lady 
from the reminiscence. 

Ethel. Didn’t I develop a stalwart young gentleman 
from the slender boy of years ago? 

Paul. The superiority of feminine perception. But to 
return: Mr. Sturgis — 

Ethel. Again! {After a pause.) Let us speak of your¬ 
self. 

Paul. He is jiart of myself. 

Ethel. You have your old imperious way that wfill not 
be denied. 

Paul. Not in this matter. 

Ethel. Say on, then! {Resignedly sits down on sofa to the 
left.) 

Paul {approaching). Spoken like my lovely little girl on 
the Hudson. 

Ethel {relaxing). Well, Mr. Sturgis? 

Paul. Mr. Sturgis is deeply anxious to explain his part 
n *n your father’s misfortunes. 

A v 


12 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Ethel. What explanation can there be ? 

Paul. One of the most vital importance. Of course you 
know all about the operation which resulted so disastrously 
to Mr. Fairchild — 

Ethel. And so profitably to Mr. Sturgis — yes. 

Paul. But not this part of it:—The affair was con¬ 
ducted in the greatest secrecy through third and fourth 
brokers. It was resisted in the same way. And not till at 
the last moment did the principals know who were opposed 
to them. 

Ethel (bitterly). Well, even then, was it necessary for 
my poor father to pay for his opposition with fortune, life, 
and the loss of his commercial honor ? 

Paul. Then it was too late ! Too late to save your father 
— too late to save even Mr. Sturgis if he had hesitated or 
stopped. Elis own ruin and that of his associates would 
have been the only result. 

Ethel. Is this true ? 

Paul (proudly). I give you the assurance. (With gentle 
persuasion) Blame not Mr. Sturgis. Think of him as a 
friend! Forget the past! 

Ethel (after a struggle). You are wise. The past lies 
dead; the future is the right of the living. But does the 
wealthy Mr. Sturgis care for the opinion of an impoverished 
and orphaned girl ? 

Paul. Everything! I am here at his request, to entreat 
your friendship. 

Ethel (with annoyance). Mr. Sturgis — again and again 
Mr. Sturgis! You seem to have no existence aside from him. 

Paul. I owe him so much — and I know him to be true 
and sincere! Ethel (taking her hand) , trust me! You have 
no better friend than he is. Accept his friendship! 

Ethel (yielding). You are bound to carry your purposes, 
as ever. Nor will I further resist. (With sincerity) Tell Mr. 
Sturgis that I regard him as a friend. 

Paul. Thanks, a thousand thanks. 

Ethel. As for yourself — 

Paul. Do anything with me! 

Ethel. You have yet to make your peace for totally for¬ 
getting me, and — 

Paul. What further crime have I committed ? 

Ethel. That of devoting our first meeting to someone 
else’s affairs. However — 

Paul. However, your heart is too good to punish me. 
And, truly, Mr. Sturgis takes precedence. I shall tell him at 
once of your kind resolve. 

(Ethel turns away piqued.) 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


13 


Scene VI.— Enter Dr. Pellet, Miss Douglas, and Arthur 

Courtney. Arthur joins Ethel at the right rear, Doctor 

and Miss Douglas come to center front, a little to the left. 

Miss Douglas. Of all things in the world, Doctor, keep 
to the physical. Y on don’t mean to treat the emotions with 

pills ? 

Doctor. Many pardons. Permit me — {absently takes out 
pill-box, hesitates, then returns it. to pocket) to explain: I have a 
specific for every emotion in the human soul — except love. 
{Looks pathetically at Miss I).) If I had that I should cure 
myself. 

Miss D. Nonsense; yon haven't the first symptoms. There 
is so much medicine in you, it leaves no room for love. 

Doctor {earnestly, hand on his heart). The profession has 
always been most tender-hearted ! 

Ethel {approaching). Not to their patients. 

Doctor. Many pardons. Permit me: It is historic that 
physicians fall in love with their patients. {Makes sheeps'-eyes 
at Miss Douglas.) 

Miss D. Heaven save ns! I must ^et another doctor at 

o 

once. Seventy-five years old, married, and settled. {She 
walks with Ethel to the rear, and both look out.) 

Doctor. Even he could not resist you {speaking after 
them. Then reflectively aside) I think she likes me. Half a 
million, and a handsome, sensible girl — no, the girl first, 
and the money afterward. Both, if I have luck. {The last 
tcords enthusiastically, after which he remains in a reverie at the 
left front.) 

Arthur {on the right with Paul). Had a talk with Miss 
Fairchild. Know her ? 

Paul. If I didn’t, I shouldn't have had the talk. 

Arthur. Awfully precise. I keep shy. 

Paul. Why ? Does she bite ? 

Arthur. Naw. I bite. She is so deucedly handsome, I 
couldn’t help it, if I went near. 

Paul. I think she won’t throw you a hook. 

Arthur. No bait, Paul. Father ruined in some Ameri¬ 
can speculation. Dead. 

Paul. I know all about it. Mr. Sturgis had the best of 
that affair by a million. 

Arthur. Lucky governor! 

Paul. But, as Miss Fairchild’s father was his friend, he 
intends to secure a fortune to her. 

Arthur {astonished). AY hat! give her a fortune ? 

Paul {with dignity). Restore to her some of her father’s 
property. 


2 


14 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Arthur. Why does he do it ? 

Paul. Because he is a man of noble, generous heart. 
The difficulty is to get her to accept it. 

Arthur. I wish the governor would try me. {I'o Paul , 
suddenly). Why don’t you marry her ? 

Paul (jumping up). I? Marry her? What are you think¬ 
ing of? 

Arthur. Why not ? She could accept the fortune with 
you. 

Paul. I havn’t anything. 

Arthur. You have your uncle. 

Paul. I mean I haven’t any character as yet. A man 
should have a settled character to get married. 

Arthur. Shouldn’t have any. His wife will settle one 
for him quick enough. Really, Paul — 

Paul. What nonsense — 

Arthur. Well, then, why don’t Mr. Sturgis marry her? 

Paul. What ? 

Arthur. The governor — he is still young, and would 
make a capital husband. 

Paul. By Jove! that’s a great idea! Then we could all 
live together, and {rapturously) a home where Ethel is would 
be happy indeed! 

Arthur. Stir him up to it! 

Paul. I shall. You have somewhere in your skull a 
good bit of brain, Arthur. Thank you! 

Arthur. You’re the first discoverer. However, it must 
yield me a good bit of money — if Miss Douglas is willing. 

Paul. Miss Douglas ? 

Arthur. Will introduce you. Half a million — pardon, 
old boy, but the mortgages on the Devonshire estate must be 
paid off somehow. 

Mrs. Harwinton {appears at the back of stage with icrap 
and parasol). Young ladies, have you forgotten our excursion? 
“The wind sits in the shoulder of the sail.” The boatmen 
wait. 

Doctor P. Many pardons, Mrs. Harwinton. This is a 
sudden call. But we will attend to the case presently. 

Mrs. H. Very well, Doctor. I will make the advance. 
{Exit.) 

Arthur {presenting Paid. Miss I). comes forward). Miss 
Douglas, an old friend of mine, Mr. Stafford. {Both bow.) 

Miss D. Very happy. Will you join our sail ? 

Paul. Thanks; I must decline. I have some business 
with Mr. Sturgis, whom I see coming. 

Miss D. The chief business at a summer-hotel is to enter¬ 
tain the ladies. 


A POINT A HONOR. 


15 


Dr. P. True. Miss Fairchild, take my arm. 

Ethel. Good day, Mr. Stafford. 

Paul. A fair breeze to you, young ladies. You go, 
Arthur? 

Arthur. Yes. 

{Exit Courtney, Dr. Pellet, Miss Douglas, and Ethel.) 

Paul {gazing after them). How gracefully she moves! 
And this is my little girl of the Hudson — now to be Mr. 
Sturgis’s wife! Here comes the happy but unconscious bride¬ 
groom. 


Scene YU.— Enter John Sturgis from the rear , hut the side 

opposite to that talcen hy the party. 

Mr. Sturgis. Well. Paul, I must get you introduced. 

Paul. Save yourself the trouble. I know Miss Fairchild. 
Don’t you remember taking me to her home on the Hudson 
- when I visited America for the first time ? 

Mr. St. True. We passed a week there, I believe. 

Paul. And I have had my conversation. It is all right, 
sir. 

Mr. St. What is all right ? 

Paul {sitting down). She understands the whole transac¬ 
tion, and accepts the hand of friendship you extend. 

Mr. St. You are a master of diplomacy. Thanks, dear 
boy. This is satisfactory. I shall settle a hundred thousand 
on her, straight , and arrange with her father’s creditors. 

Paul {jumping up). Hold, a bit, uncle John. She is 
ready to regard you as a dear friend, but I was not able to 
bring in the money question as vet. 

Mr. St. {disagreeably surprised). How? Why, that was 
the principal thing. 

Paul. It may be the principal thing with a Wall Street 
banker, but it isn’t with a refined young lady. {Proudly.) 
Ethel Fairchild is not a common place girl. She has, I think, 
a sweet nature full of noble impulses—and a heart as true as 
gold, but much more valuable. 

Mr. St. Who gainsays it? {Staring.) I have known her 
from childhood. But all that 

Paul. All that has to do with the affair. To such a girl 
you cannot give money—as to a beggar. 

Mr. St. What on earth do you mean? 

Paul. I mean that, not being her father, her brother, or 
her uncle, the only way you can give a fortune to Ethel is — 

Mr. St. Is? 


16 


A POINT OF HONOR 


Paul. By becoming her husband. 

Mr. St. Her husband! Good heavens! what are you 
thinking of ? 

Paul. I am thinking that you, dear sir, are but little 
beyond forty. You have spent the last twenty years in the 
acquisition of a great fortune. Till now, the rise of Erie or 
the fall of Union Pacific were so important to you that you 
did not notice there were more important things in life. 
But, sir, while success is of the first importance, a judicious 
enjoyment of its fruits comes next. 

Mn. St. (walking up and down the stage , stops, and says). 
Quite a lecture. The egg preaching to the hen. (Resuming 
his walk.) What an idea! (Uneasily.) I have had one fail¬ 
ure in that direction. I dare not risk another! 

Paul. You, sir! Have you ever thought of marriage? 

Mr. St. Thought? I have lo.ved deeply and sincerely. 
Mrs. Harvvinton, Ethel’s friend, was bound to me by every 
tie of love and honor. Well ( hesitating ), for all these years 
we have been more distant than strangers. I am still alone, 
and she lives separated from her gambling and spendthrift 
husband. 

Paul. I deeply sympathize. (Pause. Then resuming in 
a lively manner.) All the more reason for planting a fresh 
graft on the withered memories of the past. Your life will 
take a new shape with Ethel at your side. 

Mr. St. Do you candidly believe a beautiful young girl 
could find anything lovable in me? ( Stands before Paul.) 

Paul (looking him over). In you? A gentleman of good 
appearance, in the prime of life. (Earnestly.) And a man 
of intellect and noble character. Don’t you think a sensible 
girl would prefer a ripened man of character to some young 
jackanapes? 

Mr. St. I have my doubts. (Assumes a more vivacious 
air , and carries out brisk business.) 

Paul. But you are a young man, if you only think so. 
Imagine the pleasant home with Ethel presiding at the table. 
And I shall live with you as long as you’ll let me. 

Mr. St. But, Paul, I don’t know how to begin it. 

Paul. Why, that will all come. 

Mr. St. No; I can’t do that part. I should make a fool 
of myself. You, my boy, \i\l have to settle the matter. 
The proposer of a measure is always appointed on the com¬ 
mittee to see it carried out. Go ahead, then; ask Ethel if 
she will be my wife. 

Paul (with consternation). I, Mr. Sturgis? That is a very 
embarrassing position. 

Mr. St. But you will manage better than I. (Decidedly) 


A POINT OF HONOR 


17 


The affair is settled. When I see you again, let it be to an¬ 
nounce — 

Dr. P. {rushing in excitedly , crying ). A terrible affair! 
( Stops short.) Many pardons. She fell overboard. 

Paul. Who? {Seizes doctor.) Speak man! Ethel? 

Mr. St. {also in excitement). Who fell overboard ? 

Doctor. Many pardons. She is safe — Mrs. Harwinton. 

{Enter Mrs. Harwinton, leaning on Miss Douglas, and 
helped by Ethel, Arthur bringing up the rear.) 

Mr. St. {deeply moved , to Mrs. H.) Thank Heaven, Rose, 
you are safe? 

(Mrs. Harwinton starts forward. remains with clasped hands 
and cast down eyes for a moment; then turns away her face , 
and extends her arm to Mr. Sturgis in a half-forbidding ges¬ 
ture. But presently relaxing , drops into a deep and frigid 
courtesy.) 

Mrs. H. Thanks for your courtesy, Mr. Sturgis. {Then 
stepping back , she hides her face on Miss Douglas’s shoulder , 
saying hysterically) Take me to my room! 

Arthur. Miss Douglas. Ethel. 

Mrs. Harwinton. Doctor. 

Mr. Sturgis. Paul. 

Curtain. 


Alternate Ending. 


Mrs. Harwinton, Ethel, and Miss Douglas appear in the 
door at the rear loaded with shawls, wraps , etc. With them 
are A. Courtney, carrying an oar , and the Doctor.) 

Mr. St. {who does not perceive them). When you see me 
again, let it be to announce — 

Mrs. H. {with mock dramatic expression). To announce that 
the storm is over, and we can have our sail. {To Dr.) Doc¬ 
tor, have you no specific for bad weather ? 

Mr. St. Better turn to this young man. He promises to 
perform miracles. {They turn laughingly to Paul.) 

Paul. If you have faith in me, I can do anything! 
{Looking at Ethel.) But greater than faith is — 

Mr. St. {stepping forward, with a sign of caution). The 
sublime confidence of youth! 


Mrs. Harwinton. 

Mr. Sturgis. Paul. 

Miss Douglas. Ethel. 

Arthur. Doctor. 

Curtain. 


2* 



ACT II. 


Mrs. Harwinton’s house in New York. An elegant drawing¬ 
room furnished in aesthetic style, with a large hay loindow at 
the hack, curtained in rich stuffs. Pictures, statues on pedes¬ 
tals, and flowers on graceful stands. Doors right and left. 
On the right, near hack scene, a writing-desk, with writing 
materials and check-hook. A table near front, to right; to 
the left, a sofa. Easy chairs about the stage. 

Mrs. IIarwinton (<enters excitedly, from the right). It is 
ever the same story. You seek me to obtain money. {To 
center front.) 

Jack Harwinton {quickly following). My dear Rose, if 
you had not separated from me, there would be no occasion 
to seek you. As for money — 

Mrs. H. {aggressively turning hack). Yes; as for money — 
Jack. What is the wife’s should be the husband’s. 

Mrs. H. {turning away and crossing to left front). And 
what is the husband’s should be squandered at cards! {Sweep¬ 
ing around and looking at him.) Have you not sacrificed your 
once ample fortune at the insatiate shrine-of the green table? 
Have you not wasted your wife’s inheritance, until she in¬ 
voked the aid of the law to save her a competence? Have 
you not thrown away aims, business, standing, and reputa¬ 
tion? And then completed the offering by the remnants of 
respect and affection I bore you? 

Jack (yawning, and strolling to right front). Don’t harp on 
that, Rose. Pardon, but I am tired of the tune. 

Mrs. H. {still angrily). Have you not sacrificed all this, 
without regret or remorse? Apd do you not now cry for 
more? 

Jack (shrugging his shoulders). A woman will have her 
say, though the heavens fall. (To Mrs. JI.) Unfortunately, 
there is not much more to sacrifice. 

Mrs. II. No; you have taken care of that. Only the 
remnant of my father’s property, and (with dignity) whatever 
feeling of probity and sense of public opinion you may have 
left. 

Jack. Their loss does not incommode me. Look! (Strik¬ 
ing his chest.) I am in splendid health, and a beautifully 
easy frame of mind. No chance to wear weeds, as yet. 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


19 


Mrs. H. It is gentlemanly in you to say that! 

Jack. Pardon! I heard you were at the same hotel, last 
summer, with John Sturgis. He is an old admirer of yours, 
and a millionaire. The conclusion is not difficult to reach. 

Mrs. H. I demand of you to remember that it is respect 
for the holy ties of wedlock — though degraded by you — 
which made me pause at a separation instead of carrying a 
divorce. 

Jack. Now, Rose, hurry through all the usual tiresome 
introduction. You always recite the same story--and I 
know it by heart. Can’t we abbreviate and come to business? 

Mrs. H. ( turns away , and talcing a seat on the left , seizes a 
bouquet, which in speaking she demolishes'). I have no business 
wdth you! 

Jack. But I with you. Just listen to reason, will you? 

Mrs. H. Your argument alw T ays comes to one conclusion: 
Give me money. 

Jack. Don’t reproach a fellow with his misfortunes. I 
have been kind to you, and good-natured, and you have n’t 
a fault to find with me, except that I play cards. 

Mrs. H. ( ’scornfully ). Really, this one passion has so ab¬ 
sorbed your being, so filled your heart, that there is no room 
for aught else, good or bad. 

Jack. If 1 had won instead of lost — 

Mrs. H. It would have been as bad. 

Jack. On, no, Rose; you don’t believe that! {Earnestly.) 
Now, I am going to win. No mistake. I have a combina¬ 
tion that will burst every bank it is tried upon. 

Mrs. H. The sixth or seventh you have had, to my 
knowledge. 

Jack. The others were good, but not practical. They 
required large play— and the confounded banks have a limit. 
Nor are there any gentlemen in the clubs, now, that have 
manhood enough to back their cards to the last consequences! 

Mrs. H. Enough of this subject! 

Jack. Allow me! My new combination is sure, even on 
limit. But — 

Mrs. H. But? 

Jack. It requires a small capital to start. 

Mrs. H. As always. 

Jack. Five thousand. And I will never ask you for 
more. I am going to Europe — to Monte Carlo. 

Mrs. H. {rises and approaches him , speaking softly). Don’t 
do it. Monaco is the last resort of the desperate gambler. 

Jack. Never fear. I’ll show them a new turn. My com¬ 
bination is sure, and I have years of bad luck to avenge. 
(Mrs. H. turns away sadly , walking to the right.) Can I have 


20 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


the money? (Pause; she puts her handkerchief to her face.) 
Don’t fret. If I am done for, there is John Sturgis. 

Mrs. H. ( indignantly ). Again! ( Then reflecting, and 
cooler.) I will give you this sum, though I know it is cast 
away—I cannot entirely liberate myself from the idea of 
duties once assumed. 

Jack (gaily, aside). Thank Heaven, some people have 
consciences! One’s scruples are another’s profits. If all 
were rogues, how could rogues live? 

Mrs. H. (with intensity.) You have spoken of John 
Sturgis. One question in regard to him. It is you, I have 
discovered, from whom came the stories which separated us! 

Jack (with an evasive smile). My dear girl, that is years 
ago! Will you write the check? (Centerfront.) 

Mrs. H. (goes to desk). Will you tell me: Were those 
stories true? 

Jack. 1 told them as they were told me. Do you care? 

Mrs. H. I do. I fear I have borne malice where none 
was deserved. (She writes the check, and returning from desk 
is met hy Jack, who holds out his hand.) On your word, man, 
tell me the truth. 

Jack ( impatiently, reaching for check). But why? You 
never asked before! 

*Mrs. H. I have lately suspected these reports, for good 
reasons. They were false, were they not? 

Jack (peremptorily). Give me the check. 

Mrs. H. They were false? (Anxiously, intensely.) 

Jack. Believe what you will. I don’t know. (He takes 
the check from her hand.) I suppose they were false. 

Mrs. H. (clasping her hands). And I have done him wrong! 
(Goes to sofa on left, and falls upon it, burying he,r face in her 
hands.) 

Jack. Good-bye. When I next see you, I will be a mil¬ 
lionaire. With this (swinging check ) I can work my combina¬ 
tion. Come and see me at Monaco.* 

Mrs. H. (sadly). And I have done him wrong! 

Jack. Too late, now. Good-bye. (Hums an air and goes 
to the door to right, where the servant meets him with a salver. 
He takes the cards and reads :) Miss Douglas. Arthur Court¬ 
ney. (To the servant) Mrs. Harwinton is at home. 

(The servant passes out, and immediately enter, right, Miss 

Douglas folloived hy Arthur. Jack hows and passes out; 

they how.) 

Miss Douglas. I have disturbed you, dear Mrs. Harwinton. 

Mrs. II. Please sit down. (She steps to a vase and arranges 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


21 


the flowers , while regaining composure .) I was engaged. But 
(turning to them ) I am glad to see you. Where is the Doctor? 

Miss D. He must have perished of his own parvules. I 
have not seen him for forty-eight hours. (Sits on sofa , left.) 

Arthur. Quite a relief. 

Miss D. By no means. I need two attendants to antago¬ 
nize each other. Men are like poisons. 

Mrs. H. (sits down near Miss D., with Arthur on her right.) 
That’s hardly complimentary to Mr. Courtney. (Turns to 
Arthur.) What poison are you like? 

Miss D. Opium. He puts me to sleep. 

Arthur. You have n’t tried. Take me, and see! 

Mrs. H. And the Doctor? 

Miss D. Like strychnine. He sends me into a fit. 

Mrs. H. But when both are present — 

Miss D. They counteract each other, and I am safe. 

Mrs. II. ( laughing , rises and goes to the right). Apply to 
the legislature at once. 

Miss D. What for? To lutve them kept in safe bottles, 
and only dispensed on regular prescription? 

Mrs. H. No. To change the law on bigamy. It is evi¬ 
dent you will have to marry both. 

Miss D. (reflectively). A woman should be allowed two 
husbands! No one man can satisfy all her emotional re¬ 
quirements. 

Arthur. I protest, ladies! Turning Mormons or Turks? 
(goes to center.) 

Mrs. H. Somebody says: A good husband must be a 
genius or a fool. You might have both, Miss Douglas. 

Miss D. Which is the genius, and which — 

Arthur. Not fair! Two against one. 

Miss D. Isn’t one man equal to a dozen women? 

Arthur. Not in a tongue tight. 

(Steps htard.) 

Mrs. H. Your auxiliaries are arriving, Mr. Courtney. 
Here is the Doctor. 


(Enter Dr. Pellet.) 

Dr. P. Many pardons! May I— (business with parvules.) 
May I inquire how you are? (Ecstatically contemplating Miss 
Douglas.) Miss Douglas! Lovely as a spring flower! A 
trifle too healthy, perhaps — 

(Arthur a.nd Mrs. H. turn to right rear, in conversation.) 


■22 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Miss D. That’s because I have n’t seen you for forty-eight 
hours. 

Dr. P. Exactly. A trifle too healthy! Many pardons! 
May I? ( Offers parvules.) To restore the balance! 

Miss D. Thank you. (Declining.) Now that you are 
here to antagonize Mr. Courtney, the balance is restored! 

Dr. P. (swallows a parvule). To modify the effect of your 
brilliant appearance on me. Mrs. Harwinton, can I serve 
you? (Offers parvules.) You look pale. It is very soothing. 

Mrs. H. (seriously.) Not for my ills. (Declines; comes 
forward.) Thanks. 

Miss D. Do you know that I have come to say good-bye, 
Mrs. Harwinton? 

Mrs. H. You are going away? And where to? 

Miss D. “Strange countries for to see.” I am tired of 
Republics and New York society. 

Arthur. Fact. She is going to Europe — Italy. 

Mrs. II. Doctor, have you prescribed this journey? 

Dr. P. Many pardons! Not at all. Miss Douglas is so 
inveterate a New Yorker, she will languish fifty miles from 
Coney Island. 

Mrs. H. And who escorts you? Both? 

Miss D. Neither. I go and leave my conquests behind. 
Will you not chaperon me? You intended the trip? I will 
wait for you. 

Mrs. H. I am delighted! We will so arrange it. (Enter 
servant , with card.) Ah ! Mr. Paul Stafford. (Nods.) 

Enter Paul (who loohs around with pleased surprise). My 
compliments to all! I am charmed to find so many friends 
assembled. Is it a birthday party? 

Miss D. Yes; we celebrate the birthday of my resolution 
to go to Italy. 

Paul. Do you take anyone with you? 

Miss D. If you will come. (Laughing.) In fact, I have 
been waiting for you. 

Paul. Beg pardon! The fate of previous victims frightens 
me. You might drop me — into the sea! 

Mrs. II. (stepping between). I am a friend of Mr. Stafford. 
I want you to leave him with a whole heart. 

Miss D. Then I must go at once. (Rises to go.) Where is 
Miss Fairchild? 

Mrs. II. I expect her every moment. 

Miss D. I will not wait. Good-bye, dear Mrs. Harwinton. 
(The ladies kiss. Exit Miss D., Arthur, and the Doctor, 
who also have taken their leave.) 

Paul. Three souls with but a single thought, 

Three hearts that beat as one! 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


23 


Mrs. H. Evidently one too many. I am glad to see you. 

Paul. Thank you. I seek Miss Fairchild in an important 
matter, to-day. 

Mrs. H. She will he here-before very long. 

Paul. Perhaps it is best I should enlist your assistance. 
Mr. Sturgis, who is one of the best men — 

Mrs. H. I know T it — 

Paul. Mr. Sturgis earnestly desires to assist Miss Fair- 
child, the daughter of his old friend, in every possible way. 
He was unwittingly concerned in the operation that ruined 
her father, and seeks to restore a portion of the fortune Mr. 
Fairchild lost. 

Mrs. H. That is noble. But will Ethel accept it ? 

Paul. I do not know. Mr. Sturgis will also arrange the 
business affairs of Mr. Fairchild, and satisfy his creditors. 

Mrs. H. Indeed ? That Ethel will appreciate at its full 
value. Her father’s honor! 

Paul. But it is an extremely delicate affair. How can I 
gain her permission to what I have proposed ? There is but 
one w T ay, I think. 

Mrs. H. {surprised). And that is ? 

Paul. Mr. Sturgis asks leave to propose a matrimonial 
alliance. 

Mrs. II. What? for himself? John Sturgis marry Ethel? 
— John Sturgis ? {She has arisen.) 

Paul. He is in the prime of life, and of manly presence. 
He has known Ethel all her days, and is very fond of her. 
But, she will bring him a happiness of which he has no idea. 

Mrs. FI. {after a pause , slowly). Yes. There is a reward 
for the good. A new and happy life w T ill begin for John 
Sturgis on the day when he weds Ethel. And I — I who 
who owe him reparation — will do all in my power to further 
this marriage. Mr. Stafford ! 

Paul. Madame ? 

Mrs. H. Thanks for your idea! {Enthusiastically). You 
have proposed a plan that will bring happiness to two people 
who both deserve it. 

Paul. Give the credit to accident. 

Mrs. H. And here comes Ethel. Permit me to speak to 
her first. 

% 

(Ethel enters Iny door to right , her arms full of flowers.) 

Paul. I request it. {To Ethel.) Good morning, Miss 
Ethel. Have you plundered the gardens ? 

Ethel. Good morning. Only the florists. {She busies 
herself arranging them in rases. To Paul.) Let me give you 
a red, red rose. 


24 


A POINT OP HONOR. 


Paul. Thanks. (She 'places it in his buttonhole. He goes 
to the back right and occupies himself at a table.) 

Mrs. H. (draws Ethel to the sofa, left front; both sit down). 
Ethel, I have good news. 

Ethel. Good news ? I am puzzled. 

Mrs. H. Listen calmly. Mr. Stafford brings a message 
from Mr. Sturgis. 

Ethel ( looking around at Paul). I have already assured 
him that I am prepared to see my father’s old friend in Mr. 
Sturgis. 

Mrs. H. Your father’s and your friend. None more so* 

He desires to settle a fortune on you. 

* 

Ethel (turns away proudly). I do not receive alms. 
(After a pause, 'to Mrs. H.) And I do not need them while I 
have you! 

Mrs. H. True, you do not need them. It is not as such 
they are offered. He also wishes to settle with Mr. Fair- 
child’s creditors. 

Ethel (rising, astonished). That is noble! The thought 
of a truly sensitive heart! (To center.) But how will it 
help me ? It substitutes Mr. Sturgis as creditor (turning to 
Mrs. H.) 

Mrs. II. Yes, in a manner. But, while the others may 
not well bear the loss, lie is in a position not to consider the 
sums required. 

Ethel (hiding her face to right center.) True! true! But 
he offers too much. My father’s honor — and a provision for 
myself. (Back to left center.) What right has he to be thus 

generous to me ? 

/ 

(Business by Paul , who approaches somewhat.) 

Mrs. H. The right of a friend. (Rises and draws Ethel to 
sofa.) 

Ethel. He has but lately acquired it. 

Mrs. H. Sit quietly. The most important thing is to 
come yet. 

Ethel. Forgive me! I see that I am unreasonable. 
What is more important-than my father’s honor? To the 
redemption of his name I would devote my life’s efforts, and 
my life’s labor'should be devoted to that purpose (rising). 


(Paid, who has gone to right back, approaches again; business.) 

Mrs. H. (talcing EtheVs hand). Then stretch out your hand 
and accept Mr. Sturgis’s offer. 

Ethel. Gladly, joyfully, would I do so. But, how can I 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


25 


ever make restitution to him ? And such a gift, from a 
stranger — 

Mrs. H. It need not be from a stranger. He has thought 
of this, generous as his entire proposal is. Mr. Sturgis asks 
for permission to address you — 

Ethel ( turning to her, surprised). To address me ? 

Mrs. H. To address you with the intention of asking 
your hand in marriage. 

Ethel ( leaping up). My hand! Mr. Sturgis! 

(Mrs. Harwinton nods energetically.) 

Ethel ( storming aci'oss the stage). He wants to marry me! 
Am I in my senses ? 

Mrs. H. (rising). Isn’t it splendid! One of the most 
honored men in the city. Wealth, influence, and standing! 
And such a character! 

Ethel (still excited to center). Is it true ? Do you mean 
it ? Mr. Sturgis wants me to be his wife ? 

Mrs. H. (joining her). And thus become entitled to pro¬ 
vide for you, and (impressively) to settle your father’s affairs. 

Ethel (starts). My father’s affairs! (Then turning vio¬ 
lently to Paul, who approaches from rear.) And you have 
brought this message ? 

Paul (forward eagerly; .with enthusiasm). Ethel, surprise 
overpowers you. But this, which binds us closer than mere 
friendship, has become my strongest wish. (Playfully.) 
When we are related I shall have a right to love you. 

Ethel (as if stung). To love me ? 

Paul (earnestly). Indeed. (Gaily.) For you will be my 
uncle’s wife, and I shall love you fully as much as I do Mr. 
Sturgis. 

Ethel (speechless for a time). I am not well. (Hides her 
head on Mrs. IHs shoulder.) My God! my God! 

Mrs. H. (to Paul). Do not speak to her now. Pray step 
aside. We ladies always have a secret enemy within us, 
waiting for a weak moment — nerves ! 

Paul (steps back to comer). So sorry. Don’t mind me! 

Mrs. H. Ethel, dear, compose yourself. At one moment 
fortune places in your grasp what has been your own highest 
desire — the vindication of your father’s name; and, what 
makes up the honorable ambition of a girl in our station, to 
marry a man of means and character. Mr. Sturgis has a 
heart of gold, and is the soul of honor. 

Ethel (bitterly). He is very generous. 

Mrs. H. He offers you independence, and the satisfaction 

3 


26 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


of your strongest wish. {Severely.) And he offers them in 
the only way in which you can accept them. 

Ethel {motions Mrs. H. to be silent, and remains in agonized 
reflection. Then rising, and to center front, addresses Paul 
with intense expression). You are one of my earliest friends. 
I have the right to ask advice and help of you. 

Paul {earnestly). I am entirely devoted to you. 

Ethel. And you {slowly and impressively) you can see no 
better future for me than to become the wife of Mr. Sturgis ? 

Paul. You wdll be the wife of the noblest man I know. 
You will be happy! 

Ethel {with intense expectation). And you — you will be 
happy if I accept Mr. Sturgis’s hand ? 

Paul. I see a life of bright days before me. 

Ethel {pressing her hands to her bosom, softly). I do not 
understand it. {Louder.) I do not understand myself! 
{Turns away from audience. Then, after pause, with sudden 
resolution, to front). Tell Mr. Sturgis that I shall be happy to 
receive him. {Exit quickly to the left.) 

Paul {joyfully). Mrs. Harwinton, this is grand! I love 
Ethel more than a sister, and to live under the same roof with 
her is happiness indeed. But, I must tell Mr. Sturgis. 

Mrs. H. Yes. Send him here. I desire to see him before 
he speaks to Ethel. 

Paul. At once. He is in the carriage below. {Exit to R.) 

Mrs. H. {alone). A strange trick of fate! Here I, once 
engaged to John Sturgis, and still holding him the best of 
men, am doing all I can to marry him to another. A just 
reparation for years of misjudgment, though mine has been 
the suffering. Ethel will be happy—and John will be. 
{Sighing and gazing pensively away to P.) 

{Enter to R. John Sturgis. Stops at the door a moment.) 

Mr. St. Mrs. Harwinton! 

Mrs. H. John Sturgis! 

{They advance to center front and remain in mutual contempla¬ 
tion for a few seconds.) 

Mrs. H. {slowly). It is long since we have met thus. 
( With feeling.) I am forced to beg your pardon — very sin¬ 
cerely, very repentantly. {Holds out her hand.) 

Mr. St. {starting). Do not disturb what lies buried under 
the dust of years. 

Mrs. H. I must, — or I shall have no peace! Until this 
morning, I continued to labor under the same misunderstand¬ 
ing which — {lower) caused our separation. 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


27 


Mr. St. Misunderstanding? {Turns away.) 

Mrs. H. Certainly. Is it not strange — laughable, if it 
were not so pitiful ? A letter, a five minutes’ conversation, 
would have cleared up everything! 

Mr. St. {with a gesture). All that is past! 

Mrs. H. {speaks pleadingly , with folded hands). Permit me. 
You disappeared for a number of weeks. At the same time 
a noted opera singer vanished. Rumor — nay, distinctly 
detailed reports, brought both facts into closest connection. 
But lately have I become convinced of my error. 

Mr. St. You suspected me of this! 

Mrs. H. Everything conspired to make it appear so. 
Even now, I know naught but that you were slandered. 

Mr. St. {gloomily). It is too late to explain — 

Mrs. H. I do not wish it. I know only this: I have 
done you wrong! {Pause.) Forgive me, John. I am pun¬ 
ished, but I have restored the ideals of the past. {Turns to 
door L.) Now for the future. Let me congratulate you 
heartily. You will be very happy. 

Mr. St. {sits down on chair It., his head leaning on his hand). 
I seek merely to restore the name and property of my friend’s 
child. But, it may be, Heaven has some happiness in store 
for me. I can hardly muster faith yet. 

Mrs. H. Oh, believe in it with a whole heart! Here 
comes Ethel. Now, John, I will leave you. 

Enter Ethel from the door on the left, sloicly, icithforced com¬ 
posure. Mr. Sturgis rises and meets her. She gives him her 

hand. Mrs. Harwinton exit R.) 

Ethel ( speaking quickly and nervously). A thousand thanks 
for your noble and generous offer. You take the cloud from 
my life when you restore my father’s name to its place of 
honor. 

Mr. St. He was my dearest afid most valued friend. 

Ethel {softly). Your kindness extends to me. What 
shall I say ? 

Mr. St. {kindly). Are you not the little girl to whom I 
gave pet names and pretty trifles all her life ? It will be but 
a continuance of the old friendship. ( Pats her hand.) 

Ethel. No: for now it will not be play. I realize the 
duties I undertake. 

Mr. St. And you have made up your mind to accept an 
elderly, prosy gentleman, buried in business, who has not one 
lovable quality in the eyes of a young lady ? 

Ethel {sincerely). I have resolved to devote my life to my 
own and my father’s benefactor. 


28 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Mr. St. If you have one thought of regret — 

Ethel. Stop! ( Turns away; then after a silence.') We 

will not speak of that. I thank you for the honor you do 
me, and accept it. 

Mr. St. Well said! ( Shakes hands solemnly.) I will en¬ 
deavor to make your life as happy as its infancy promised. 
(With gayety.) We shall have a pleasant house. Paul Staf¬ 
ford, your playfellow, will live with us, and he will keep us 
all in merry humor. You cannot imagine how much he 
thinks of you! 

Ethel (starts; then sits down on sofa L.; turns with re¬ 
strained intensity to Mr. Sturgis). Mr. Stafford will live 
with you ? Does he not return to Texas ? 

Mr. St. No (laughing). He is to be the prop of my age. 
But, I forgot. I am old no more. You will charm back my 
youth. 

(Ethel turns away in deep thought. Business icithfan.) 

Mr. St. What is in your mind — Ethel ? Let me call you 
so again ? 

Ethel (quickly). I must urge a request, Mr. Sturgis. 

Mr. St. It is granted. 

Ethel (approaching him). It may seem peculiar. (Hesi¬ 
tates; then with resolution). Mr. Stafford must not be an 
inmate of your house. Nay, I request that you influence 
him to leave New York. 

Mr. St. (astonished). Paul Stafford ! But why ? 

Ethel (with assumed playfulness). It is a woman’s privilege 
to request without giving reasons. Seriously — do oblige 
me. 

Mr. St. But I thought— (Aside.) I am dumbfounded. 
(To Ethel.) What quarrel have you with him ? How has he 
incurred your displeasure ? 

Ethel. I must not answer. (Again assuming playfulness.) 
As women are declared to Be a puzzle, prepare at once to be 
puzzled. Only trust me. With sincere respect for Mr. Staf¬ 
ford, I must insist on my request. 

Mr. St. (with a sudden thought). I will let you settle it be¬ 
tween yourselves. Paul is still below. (Turns to door , R.) 

Ethel (seeking to detain him). No, no! 

Mr. St. Good-bye for the present. Paul will be here in 
a moment. (Hurries out.) 

Ethel (alone). How can I tell him? (With clasped hands 
pressed to her bosom , and eyes upturned , she remains some mo¬ 
ments, then slowly relaxes.) Have I not already gone to the 
farthest limits of maidenly modesty—and he does not com¬ 
prehend? (Passionately.) Glorious he is in his single-minded 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


29 


enthusiasm, a perfect boy in feeling — chivalrous, devoted, 
and with no thought of himself. (A pause.) Must I disturb 
his unconscious peace? ( Her hand to her head. Then strongly.) 
There is no escape from the plain duty of honor. Reserve — 
the shrinking of a sensitive heart — shame — all must be 
disregarded: either Paul must know, or Mr. Sturgis. — He 
comes — it is inevitable! Better now than afterward. 

(Enter Paul, somewhat hurriedly and surprised, from R.) 

Paul. Mr. Sturgis says you desire to see me. 

Ethel (on sofa to the left; business with flowers.) Yes — 
that is — pardon me. 

Paul. I am entirely at your service. And — let me ex¬ 
press my joy at the prospect before us. (Approaches her.) 

Ethel (with an effort). It is of this prospect that I must 
speak to you. (Points to ottoman near her.) Will you sit 
down? 

Paul (with alacrity). Certainly. 

Ethel. Mr. Sturgis has mentioned his plans for the 
future. They are full of bright expectation, and include a 
home where you, he, and I shall live together. (The last 
phrase spoken pointedly.) 

Paul (eagerly.) I share his expectations, and I know they 
will be realized! 

Ethel (slowly). Mr. Stafford, that can never be. 

Paul. Can — never — be? Why? 

Ethel (rising and to center front). Must I explain? 

Paul. Explain? (Disappointed.) Are you not to marry 
Mr. Sturgis? (Rises.) 

Ethel. Because I am to marry him.—Pray, sit down 
here. (8he indicates a chair on the R. Paul hows and takes 
it. Ethel moves another chair near hut further hack and to 
center , and standing behind it , icith one hand upon the hack , 
speaks , trembling.) Mr. Stafford, do not misjudge me for 
what I am about to say. I have no parent to guide me, and 
I know not how to meet otherwise the situation in which I 
am placed. Oh, do you help me! (Pleading.) 

Paul (uneasy and excited). Command me to the farthest 
extent of my power! 

Ethel (speaking low and quick at first , gradually louder.) 
Years ago your uncle brought you to our home on the Hud¬ 
son, a bright, romantic boy. We played together, we read 
together the tales that charm childhood; and during your 
stay, the little girl’s heart was filled with affectionate admira¬ 
tion for her big playfellow. Your visit ended, you went 
away — and — forgot us! 

3* 


30 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Paul (half rising). Indeed, no! 

Ethel. Not so with me. The bright English boy be¬ 
came the nucleus of a school-girl’s dreams, and the heroes of 
history, the princes of romance assumed his shape in her 
fancy. 

Paul (rising in great excitement). Ethel! 

Ethel. A moment! Unexpectedly, I saw you again; my 
dreams became reality. I was conscious— (Turns aicay 
and to center of stage, with raised hands.) My God! Do you 
not understand? 

Paul (awe-struck and bewildered , in a low voice). Ethel! 
(Then 'passionately.) Ethel, Ethel! (He rushes forward and 
seizes her hands.) I did not know — I could not feel — Oh, I 
have been blind and an idiot! This strong impulse to be 
near you — the constant desire to see you — this very attempt 
to link our lives— (with despair) Oh, fool, fool of fate! 
(Laughing bitterly.) Why, Ethel, I have loved you, always — 
but I did not know it! 

Ethel (shrinking back). For Heaven’s sake, do not speak 
so! It is worse than madness, now. 

Paul. Ethel! And you love me! Say you love me! 
( Violently.) I must hear it from you! 

Ethel. Paul! Recollect yourself! In pity — 

Paul (clasping her to his breast.) My Ethel! my own ! 

Ethel ( breaking away from him). You are mad! I am 
Mr. Sturgis’s promised wife! I have opened my heart to you 
that I may pluck out the feeling which is now dishonor. 
Go, sir! 

Paul. I am mad! But I love you with all my heart and 
with all my soul! 

Ethel. Go ! (S he staggers, and falls senseless. Paul, who 
has retreated to the door, returns and kneels by her side, covering 
her hands with kisses.) 


( Curtain.) 


ACT III. 


Scene. — A reception-room in Mrs. Harwinton’s house. 
Large folding-doors at the hack, open and half veiled hy very 
rich curtains of old gold bordered with light-blue velvet. Gilt 
chairs, small and elegant, cushioned in light blue, are scattered 
about, and a few light stands, bearing vases of jloicers, are on 
either side of the folding-doors and to the front It. A sofa 
on L. front, back of it an elaborate mantel, and further back 
an open piano with notes. R. near front a door with draper¬ 
ies. Exotics and flowers everywhere. During this act dance- 
music is heard at intervals from the adjoining room, softly and 
in harmony with or contrast to the action on the stage. Mrs. 
Harwinton discovered, splendidly attired, on the sofa L. 
Dr. Pellet, in evening dress, stands near her. 

Mrs. Harwinton. This reception has been deferred too 
long; but Ethel was determined. Now, it will not only 
announce her engagement, which everybody knows, but our 
departure for Europe, which everybody has forgotten. ( Busi¬ 
ness with fan.) 

Dr. Pellet {stepping to C.). Many pardons, but permit 
me: Why was Miss Fairchild opposed to it? (Studies his 
looks in the mirror above mantel, at distance.) 

Mrs. H. I can’t imagine. The dear girl has been under 
a spell since her engagement. Her spirits flag sadly. She 
really needs the trip. 

Dr. P. Perhaps a little disorder of the nervous system. 
May I suggest an iron tonic ? {Business with parvules.) 

Mrs. H. An Italian air tonic is better. You know how 
long I have contemplated the journey ? Now, Mr. Sturgis 
will go with us. 

{Enter Servant by door to R.) 

Servant. Miss Douglas. Mr. Courtney. {Exit.) 

{Enter Miss Douglas and Arthur.) 

Mrs. H. {rising and striking a dramatic attitude). Late 
come ye, but ye come! Really everybody is here, and I am 
resting from my labors under medical superintendence. 


32 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


(All exchange greetings. Miss Douglas and Mrs. Harwin- 

ton sit down on sofa L. Arthur stands R. C. Dr. Pel¬ 
let L. C. to rear.) 

Miss D. Mr. Courtney is so dreadfully slow, I am sur- 
jDrised we are here at all. 

Arthur. Cawn’t make up for time it takes a lady to 
dress. 

Mrs. H. You are right. And Miss Douglas’s appearance 
explains the delay. (Admiring her.) Charming! In ex¬ 
quisite taste! 

(A few bars of a waltz are heard faintly.) 

Miss D. You make me quite happy. Indeed you do. 
The toilet is my vulnerable point. (Rises and displays cos¬ 
tume). You know how we poor American girls have been 
abused for bad taste. 

Mrs. H. Yes, indeed. And it is the fault of the men. 
Fifty millions of people and not a single “Worth”! 

Miss D. ( sits down). Yet, in the face of this, when a lady 
gets some friend to bring her a decent garment from France 
one has no end of trouble with the horrid custom-house 
men. Faugh ! Where is Ethel ? 

Mrs. H. In the ball-room. 

Miss D. Responding to the requests of dancers, or whis¬ 
pering sweet nothings to Mr. Sturgis. 

Mrs. H. I do not believe Ethel inclines to sweet nothings. 
Do you whisper them ? And to which of the two ? 

Miss D. I average. Don’t I, Doctor ? Not so, Mr. 
Courtney ? 

Arthur. Not always sweet, but — 

Miss D. Nothings. Exactly. Echoes of the conversa¬ 
tions I hear. 

Dr. P. Many pardons. Permit me: You will not listen 
to a serious discussion. I have often endeavored to interest 
you — 

Miss D. Yes — in the domestic habits of trichinae, or the 
vagaries of malaria. (Shudders.) No, Doctor. Thank you. 

Mrs. H. It is evident, my dear Doctor, that Miss Doug¬ 
las does not appreciate you this evening. Will you escort 
me to the next room ? 1 must see to my guests. (Rises and 

gets ready.) 

Dr. P. Many pardons! Pray accept (business with pill- 
case) my excuses. 

Mrs. H. Oh, no! I cannot. You must play devoted 
knight this evening. (She takes his arm and exit both , while 


A POINT OP HONOR. 


33 


music is heard. Doctor goes very reluctantly , looking hack at 
Miss Douglas and Arthur.) 

Miss D. (as Arthur approaches her). Don’t ask me to 
dance. I am not yet ready to display my glories. (Business 
with dress.) 

Arthur. Wasn’t going to. Want to ask something else. 

Miss D. No conundrum, please. I am bad at guessing, 
if I am an American. 

Arthur. Isn’t a conundrum. Must have been plain to 
you for a long time. (He walks about the room rather embar- 
rassedly, handling things.) 

Miss D. What under Heaven are you talking about ? 
(Observes him quietly.) Really, Mr. Courtney, you act like a 
— ( hesitates ). 

Arthur. Like a donkey, I presume. (Aside.) Always 
heard that a fellow acted like a donkey under these circum¬ 
stances. (Keeps moving in an uneasy way.) 

Miss D. Have you lost anything ? 

Arthur (Greatly relieved , and coming over to Miss Doug.) 
Yes, my heart. 

Miss D. Good gracious! Under that table ? 

Arthur. No. Excuse me. Am really embarrassed. You 
must be aware of the state of my feelings. Arn’t you ? 

Miss D. ( bridling ). Mr. Courtney, I am not aware of the 
state of any gentleman’s feelings — and I don’t want to be! 

Arthur. Oh, hang it. Miss Douglas, don’t you think you 
could like me ? 

Miss D. If you ask another question of the sort I shall 
scream, or faint, or do something dreadful. Here we are at 
the beginning of a reception. Do you think I want to look 
like a scarlet geranium all the evening ? 

Arthur. My dear Miss Douglas-— 

Miss D. Not another word; but be good, and don’t flurry 
me. (Music heard.) 

Arthur. May I hope ? 

Miss D. (dramatically). “ Hope springs eternal in the 
human heart.” Now, ask Miss Ethel to dance. Go at 
once — on your allegiance! She points to the door , and 
Arthur exit after much hesitation , as Dr. Pellet comes in. 
They eye each other with jealousy. Protracted business.) 

Miss D. Escaped from Scylla, I fall a prey to Charybdis. 
Here comes number two. (She rises and takes a seat to the R.) 

Dr. P. (to Miss D). My charming friend! (Looks disgust¬ 
edly after Arthur.) How t you must have suffered! An 
English bore is really worse than any other. 

Miss D. (languidly). Yes. Isn’t everything more thor¬ 
ough over there ? 


34 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Dr. P. ( after pause and preparatory business). Many par¬ 
dons. May I offer you a parvule ? 

Miss D. What for ? I am well. ( Rising to C.) 

Dr. P. As a precautionary measure. You are about to 
hear something that may agitate you. ( Pompously.) 

Miss D. What do you mean? Are you going to make me 
ill, and give the medicine in advance? 

Dr. P. Oh, no! oh, no! Many pardons. Only — I have 
taken three parvules myself. 

Miss D. {with a repressed smile). That’s right. Perhaps 
you will hear something to agitate you. 

Dr. P. My dear Miss Douglas! {Conducts her to seat in 
It. C., placed by himself , and poses , hand in breast of coat.) 
Even in the life of a medical man there are moments when 
he does not feel that entire self-reliance which his profession 
develops and fosters. 

Miss D. Then, I presume, he asks for consultation. 

Dr. P. {seizing the application). Exactly. And, where the 
opinion of the consultant agrees with his own, the case is 
clear and the remedy easily provided. 

Miss D. {feigning innocence). Does the patient recover ? 

Dr. P. In this instance he cherishes very strong hopes. 
Miss Douglas — my dear Miss Douglas — I am in love! 

Miss D. For Heaven’s sake! What physician discovered 
the disease ? Perhaps it’s a mistake. 

Dr. P. Impossible! {Solemnly.) It is but too true, too 
true, alas! {Hand on heart.) 

Miss D. {with affected concern). Does it hurt much ? 

Dr. P. Many pardons! But you have the remedy. I am 
in love with you! 

Miss D. Doctor, don’t make a fool of yourself! 

Dr. P. It is far from my intention — many pardons — if 
you don’t make a fool of me. {Extends his hand pleadingly). 

Miss D. Then don’t say such ridiculous things. 

Dr. P. Candor compels me to confess my feelings. I 
endeavored to compass a cure by medicine, but no specific 
was effective against your charms. Will you, my dearest 
Miss Douglas — 

Miss D. {with annoyance). I will indeed get some one else 
to attend me. {Assuming playfulness). I shall be afraid of a 
love potion in your parvules. 

Dr. P. Don’t fear. I rely not on my medicine, but on my 
personality , in this case. 

Miss D. Very well. If you love me, bring me an ice at 
once. I certainly need it to assuage the raging flames you 
have kindled in my heart. If you please — 


A POINT A HONOR. 


35 


Dr. P. (confused). You are joking. In all seriousness, let 
me ask, my dear Miss Douglas — 

Miss D. No, indeed! Get me the ice, or I shall perish! 
I will wait here. ( Looks around.) And there are Mrs. Har- 
winton and Ethel to keep me company. 

Dr. P. Many pardons! ( Stands undecided and annoyed. 
Then slowly and ruefully.) I will get the ice. {Exit Dr. 
Pellet hy C. hack.) 

{Enter Mrs. Harwinton and Ethel.) 

Mrs. H. {in a surprised tone). Why, in all the world, do 
you linger here ? 

Miss D. As the poet says, “ Who would seek the far¬ 
away, When the best is close at hand ? ” 

Mrs. H. You have not entered the ball-room, and half 
the gentlemen are dying to dance with you. 

Miss D. Let them die. I shall send the Doctor to revive 
them, after he has brought my ice. 

Mrs. H. {courteously). Will you not be served with some¬ 
thing more ? 

Miss D. I have been served with enough for one evening. 
{Solemnly posing.) My dear friend, do you realize that I have 
had two proposals to-night ? Instead of champagne corks, 
questions have been popped to me. 

Mrs. H. You astonish me! And who has carried off the 
prize ? 

Miss D. No one. I still walk, like Queen Elizabeth, 
“High and disposedly and alone.” 

Mrs. H. Poor gentlemen! {Goes to the R. front.) 

Miss D. Come here, Ethel. {Sits down on sofa to L.) 
You look like a statue of indifference, instead of the queen 
of the feast. 

Ethel {who on entering has dropped into a chair on R. 6'., 
rear , and remained with doicmcast eyes , now comes forward lan¬ 
guidly). I have not been in good spirits. {Sits down with 
Miss Douglas on sofa to L. front.) 

Miss D. What! Engaged, and not in good spirits ? You 
are a libel on the American society girl. {Music in next room.) 

Mrs. H. I propose to let the sun of Italy bring back the 
sjiarkle to her eyes. 

Miss D. Come here, Mrs. Harwinton. Three graces are 
we, in judgment assembled. Who pleases you best,—the 
Doctor and his parvules, or the Honorable Mr. Courtney — 

Mrs. H. With his drawl and his debts. I don’t know. 


36 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


{Enter Paul Stafford hastily from the center rear.) 

Paul. I beg pardon. Am I de trop ? 

Miss D. You are just in time to save my life. See what 
has become of that detestable doctor, who promised to bring 
me an ice. 

Dr. P. {enter with tray). Here it is. {Presents it to Miss 
Douglas.) Frigid as some hearts! 

Miss D. Not as your own, Doctor, which is full of kind¬ 
ness. Please sit by me while I partake. 

{She walks to sofa on R., and takes the ice , chatting with the 
Doctor, who sits by her side , but observant of Paul and 
Ethel during the following scene. Paul takes the vacant 
seat on sofa L. with Ethel, while Mrs. Harwinton makes 
business at back of stage , and disappears occasionally., Music 
continues , very low.) 

Paul {ardently). Ethel, may I speak to you ? 

Ethel {coldly). You should not have come here to-night. 
Paul. I have tried to obey you. I have kejit out of your 
sight while it was possible. I have said to myself everything 
that can control a man. 

Ethel. Have you said to yourself: I will be a man of 
honor? 

Paul. Could I otherwise have restrained my impulses ? 
Ethel. And have you added: I will be chivalrous and 
considerate to the woman that suffers as much as I do ? 

Paul {passionately). You suffer, Ethel! There is Heaven 
and Hell [or, “joy and agony”] in this word., {She rises.) 
Do not go away. I will be very quiet. {He seizes her hand 
and draws her down. Music stops.) 

Ethel {speaking nervously and lowly). Mrs. Harwinton, 
will you not ask Mr. Stafford to sing ? I understand he has 
a fine voice. 

Mrs. H. {coming forward.) Certainly. {To Paul). Will 
you oblige us ? 

Miss D. I am all attention. Please. 

Paul. My voice refuses me to-night, ladies. {Annoyed.) 
Mrs. H. Make a trial. Here is Ethel’s latest favorite. 
{Steps to piano and hands him notes.) 

Paul {rising, takes them; to C.) I do not know it. 

Mrs. H. The words are very fine. {Where the actor can 
sing , he should bow , and after glancing over the notes, proceed to 
the piano and sing the verses.) Please read them, if you cannot 
sing to-night. 


A POINT OF HONOR 


37 


Paul. That is a poor substitute. {Reads in G. front.) 
‘ 1 1 think of all thou art to me,' 

I dream of what thou cans’t not be, 

My life is curst with thoughts of thee, 

Forever and forever. 

Perchance, if we had never met, 

I had been spared this mad regret, 

This endless striving to forget, . . 

Forever and forever. 

{His voice breaks at the last words. Ethel, who has listened 
with deep emotion, presses her handkerchief to her eyes , turn¬ 
ing away and rising.) 

Paul. I must beg off. Will you be gracious ? Miss 
Ethel, let us join the dancers. Please? 

(Ethel takes his arm falteringly. Exit both G. rear. After a 
pause.) 

Miss D. I am sure Miss Fairchild is not well. Doctor, 
keep your professional eye on her. ( Urges him after the two. 
Impetuously.) I tell you it is a case for valerian! 

{The Doctor bows, and exit often' them.) 

Mrs. H. {comes forward and joins Miss Douglas). Now, 
will you come to the ball-room ? 

Miss D. {drawing her to G., then mysteriously). In a 
moment. Mrs. Harwinton, there is a dreadful secret here. 

Mrs. H. A secret? You frighten me! {Aside.) Has 
Jack done anything ? 

Miss D. I am frightened myself. You know what I 
mean. 

Mrs. H. I don’t understand. {With a sudden smile.) 
Have you accepted the Doctor ? 

Miss D. Do I look like it ? No; it is not that. 

Mrs. H. You look so impressive that, if I were the Queen 
of England, I should fear the cellar was full of dynamite. 

Miss D. The cellar is full of dynamite, but not your 
cellar. It is Mr. Sturgis. 

Mrs. H. Impossible! You do not think that he has 
enemies who mean him harm? 

Miss D. One enemy. A serpent nourished in his bosom. 
Paul Stafford! {She says this in a melodramatic manner.) 
Mrs. H. Great Heavens! Are you beside yourself ? How 

4 


38 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


can Mr. Stafford be his enemy? {After a pause.) Why, Paul 
loves Mr. Sturgis dearly. 

Miss D. Perhaps. But he loves Mr. Sturgis’s promised 
wife still more. 

Mks.1I. You are dreaming! Ethel Fairchild? 

Miss D. And she loves him, as sure as I am standing on 
my two feet, and have had two proposals to-night. 

Mrs. H. You see visions. {Laughing.) It was Paul who 
suggested and arranged the match between them. 

Miss D. No matter. I have two excellent eyes, and 
when people act like that in society I know they are in love. 

Mrs. H. I am dumbfounded! 

Miss D. Listen. Has not Ethel been heart-sick since her 
engagement? Has not Paul made every excuse to keep away 
from her? Has not she avoided him altogether? both trying 
to repress their feelings. Now they have met. I watched 
them closely. Mrs. Harwinton, they are beyond recall. 

Mrs. II. {firmly). It must not be. John Sturgis deserves 
too well to have another disappointment. 

Miss D. I simply call your attention to it. And now, 
really, I must go to the Doctor, and mortify my flesh in a 
quadrille. He is a very bad dancer. {Arranges her costume.) 

Mrs. II. I really cannot believe that it is so. 

Mrss D. Open your eyes, dear friend, and see for yourself. 
As for me, I am dumb. {Exit.) 

Mrs. H. {G.) Can it be? And if so, what is my duty? 
John Sturgis must be informed, at any rate. He can watch 
Paul. I, myself, will speak to Ethel. {Business showing great 
agitation.) It must be a dream — but it is a very disquieting 
dream. If there is a grain of truth in this suspicion, young 
Stafford must be sent away before he is a day older. I will 
see John Sturgis at once. {Exit.) 

{Enter Paul and Ethel. Ethel takes chair R. Paul leans 

on back of her chair.) 

Paul {passionately). At last, we are alone. 

Ethel {with dignity). For the moment. But, alone or in 
a crowd, we can have nothing to say which every one may 
not hear. {Low waltz music from outside.) 

Paul (with difficulty restraining himself). You are mis¬ 
taken. When last we met you had something to say to me. 
Now, I have something to say to you. 

Ethel {firmly.) Whatever Mr. Sturgis’s promised wife 
can listen to, I am ready to hear. 

Paul {stepping away and to L. front). Can listen to? It 
is a story that every woman must listen to. ( Violently.) 
Ethel! I love you! 


A TOINT OF HONOR. 


S9 


Ethel {rising, goes to L. G.; speaks sadly). I know it! 
Well ? -a 

Paul. And you love me. 

Ethel. I have told you so. Well? 

Paul {astonished.) Well? {Bitterly). It is gracious in 
you to say so. But I cannot soar above all human emotion. 

Ethel. Nor can I. I master it! 

Paul {approaches pleadingly). Why should two lives cre¬ 
ated for each other cast away their happiness? 

Ethel. Because they hold honor and loyalty above the 
craving of their love. 

Paul. Ethel, you bade me go! For weeks I have seen 
you but at a distance, and kissed you only with my eyes. 

Ethel. You should not have seen me at all. 

Paul. A day was not a day when I could not see you. 

Ethel {with resolution). Paul, this is worse than folly. 
By my own free act I am bound to a man who deserves the 
best of me, the best of you. He has cemented this bond by 
the redemption of my father’s good name. His own feelings 
are engaged — and — what do I not owe him! Paul, I have 
battled for myself— must I also battle for you? 

Paul {with a hurst of despair). What would you! 

Ethel. Go away! Leave me for years and years, until 
we can both smile at the sweet folly of our youth. 

Paul {in a choked voice). If I do? 

Ethel. I shall hold you my own noble Paul, the ideal of 
my heart! 

Paul. It is despair and death! 

Ethel. No, no ! It is life, and action, and hope! It is a 
grand purpose in place of a wild passion, a triumph instead 
of a mistake! 

Paul (on the sofa to the L., his head buried in his hands). 
It breaks my heart — but — I promise. 

Ethel {in a burst of ecstacy , G.) And I, dearest love, 
promise to hold you in my heart of hearts so purely, so 
divinely, that, above all earthly circumstance, our affection 
will be with the angels — until we come to redeem it! {She 
extends her arms. Paul clasps her to his bosom.) 

Paul. My love! Mine own! (Pause; then passionately.) 
This must not be our farewell! 

Ethel (arousing herself). It is — our farewell! ( With a 
grand gesture.) Go, Paul, and the memory of our love keep 
with you — forever and ever! 

Paul ( wildly , beside himself). I go — but you must go 
with me! Ethel N we cannot part again after this hour of 
happiness! 


40 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Ethel. No, no! {Repulsing him.) This hour of madness 
— I fear! At once, go! 

{A few soft strains of music from next room. She rushes to the 
sofa on the L. Paul folloics. Mr. Sturgis appears at the 
hack of scene, half hidden by the drapery of the dooi\) 

Paul. Ethel, you must be mine! 

Ethel. I am Mr. Sturgis’s promised wife. Do not dare 
to regard me otherwise! Remember your word ! Away! 

Paul ( beside himself). I have learned too much, I feel tea 
deeply. Your words are in vain ! 

Ethel {staggering). My God! I have deceived myself 1 
Is there no help? 

Mr. Sturgis {advancing). Yes. I am here, Ethel. 

(Paul to R. G. Ethel throws up her arms icith a cry and 
falls fainting on the sofa.) 

Paul. Mr. Sturgis! 

(Mr. Sturgis hastens to the sofa on the L.) 

Mr. St. She has fainted. 

Paul. Ethel, darling! {Crossing.) What have I done? 

(John Sturgis savagely steps between him and Ethel.) 

Mr. St. Back, sir! 

Mrs. H. {entering). What has happened? 

Mr. St. Ethel has fainted. Take care of her. 

(Mrs. Harwinton hastens to Ethel’s side and plies her with 
smelling-salts , etc. Mr. Sturgis crosses to R. Paul re¬ 
mains in center). 

Mr. St. {with bitter contempt). This , then, is the loyalty 
of an English gentleman ! 

Paul. Mr. Sturgis! 

Mr. St. (bitterly). I confess I am behind the times. 

Paul (low). I could not help it. ( Louder, to Ethel.) I 
cannot help it now. 

Mr. St. {satirically). Pray, do not restrain yourself! 
It is nothing but a point of honor ! 

Mrs. H. {to Mr. Sturgis.) Pray, dear friend, be calm for 
Heaven’s sake! Remember his youth! 

Mr. St. {with a burst of icrath). I will remember nothing 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


41 


but his damnable plot to dishonor me, and win the woman I 
have wooed. I was to be the laughingstock of the city — 
Paul {sadly). You wrong me, sir. 

Mr. St. {rushes to Paul and glares at him for a moment,, 
then raising his arm threateningly). Silence! {Points across 
to Ethel.) This is scoundrelly work! ( Then slowly turning 
to Paul.) And you, of all men — you, whom I regarded the 
very soul of honor —(crosses to R. and turns away) let me 
never see your face again! 

Paul. 

Mrs. Harwinton. 

Ethel Mr. Sturchs. 


Curtain. 


ACT IV. 


Scene. — The esplanade at Monte Carlo. On the wings caches 
and palm trees of splendid proportions. Over the stage gor¬ 
geous tropical plants in marble vases. On the back curtain 
a view of the casino {white marble) in half distance, and be¬ 
yond that the dark mountains rising in bold contours, with the 
blue Italian sky overhead. In the center of the stage to the 
rear a small fountain , with graceful figure throwing a stream 
of water. A graveled icalk around the fountain opening into 
a broad space in front. On both sides light garden settees, 
overhung on the right by a palm , on the left by flowers from a 
marble vase. 

{Enter Mrs. Harwinton in an elegant light costume from the 
right.) 

Mrs. H. I anticipated this annoyance, but could not help 
it. He is following me {to L front). 

{Enter Jack Harwinton from R.) 

Jack. You came to Monte Carlo to look for me. That is 
kind. 

Mrs. H. {coldly). I did not look for you, Mr. Harwinton. 
Jack {center front). Perhaps to look for the money you 
lent me. Don’t hesitate! I am in luck. 

Mrs. H. I accounted it lost when I gave. 

Jack. You are wrong then. 1 am winning. And I would 
return it now but that it changes the run of cards to pay a 
debt. 

Mrs. H. {going to the other side ; business with fan as if an¬ 
noyed). I have not asked for it, and I do not seek you. 

Jack {following her). Why are you here then? 

Mrs. H. Why am I here ? All the world comes to 
Monaco. I am here, however, for reasons which have no 
reference to you. {Impatiently.) Don’t you see that you are 
annoying me ? 

Jack {takes a turn across and bach). Sorry. But I can’t 
help it. 

Mrs. H. {sharply). You say you do not want money ? 
What then? Why don’t you leave me ? 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


43 


Jack. Because I have something to say to you, Rose. 
You must leave Monte Carlo, at once! ( With determination). 

Mrs. H. Sir! {'proudly). I have yet to learn that you di¬ 
rect my movements. I shall leave you to that reflection. 
( Walks to L rear.) 

Jack {follows to center). Stop where you are, and hear 
me! I am good natured enough, but one thing will make me 
savage! 

Mrs. H. What does this mean ? Do you complain of 
me? {She has stopped and turned half around.) 

Jack {angrily.) You will break my luck! ( After a pause r 
beseeching.) Rose, have pity on me, and go away. 

Mrs. H. {with scorn). What have I to do with your gam¬ 
bling? {Strolls back.) I really don’t know why I should agi¬ 
tate myself. 

Jack {imperiously.) Sit down a moment and listen. (Mrs. 
Harwinton shrugs her shoulders and starts to cross to L. r 
when Jack breaks out violently.) Do you wish a scene that 
will force you to go away? I shall hesitate at nothing. A 
cry or a pistol-shot will assemble a swarm of the brilliant 
riff-raff that till these gardens. Sit down! 

Mrs. H. {sits down at L. front). I really fail to understand 
the cause of all this excitement. Let us be calm. How am 
I in your way? 

Jack {collecting himself with a laugh). I presume I am in 
yours. But, now you are rational, excuse me, it is thus: — 
{Hesitates). 

Mrs. H. Well, I am curious. 

Jack. I told you of my combination in New York. I 
came here to try it. 

Mrs. H. The old story — 

Jack. Yes. It did not succeed at first. 

Mrs. H. {shrugging her shoulders). As all your other com¬ 
binations. 

Jack. Then, about ten days ago, a large blonde Parisian 
woman, a baroness d’Oscura, took the seat opposite to me. 
The moment I heard her name I was favorably impressed. 

Mrs. H. Her name? 

Jack. Oscura. The name of the mine in which I had my 
first important business success. How she came by it I do 
not know. 

Mrs. H. Probably as many other ladies at Monaco come 
by their names — by adoption. 

Jack. Perhaps. I no sooner heard it than I believed in 
her. I knew she would bring me luck. And from the 
moment of her appearance I won. At first I was cowardly 
and dared not risk much. But, as she took her seat day by 


44 


A POINT OP HONOR. 


day, my luck held out, and now I have enough to attempt a 
great strike. 

Mrs. H. I am at a loss to know what I have to do with 
all this. (Rises.) 

Jack. Everything. Your presence always has the oppo¬ 
site effect. When you are near, I am sure to lose. 

Mrs. II. You are childish. 

Jack. Call it what you will, it is so. I dare not stop 
playing for fear my luck will break; and I dare not continue 
while you are here for fear it will turn. (Entreating.) Rose, 
leave Monaco, and I will join you in a few days in Nice or 
Turin with money enough to make up for all my sins. 

Mrs. H. You disgust me. sir! I have nothing to say to 
you. (Rises.) 

Jack (coming dose to her). Look here, Rose, I might be 
violent. But 1 appeal to you! Would you ruin a fellow who 
has his first chance at luck? 

Mrs. H. But you are foolish. What am I to your luck?' 

Jack. We can’t understand that. Do you know how 
things hang together and influence each other in this world? 
Who can tell? Rose! (takes hold of her arm) — 

Mrs H. Sir, do not touch me! 

Jack (bitterly). You will not leave! — and I cannot stay 
away from the table any longer, my luck may pass on when 
I am not there. Now, listen! Do not show your face in the 
gambling-hall. Do not, I beg of you! 

Mrs. H. Enough. I will not listen to this any longer. 

Jack. Indeed! Well, I am a desperate man who has his 
first chance. (Draws a pistol.) See here! 

Mrs. H. The gambler’s last resort. ( With scorn.) 

Jack. Yes. Now mark me! If you show yourself in the 
hall and bring back my ill luck, this is for you, and then for 
me ! 

Mrs. H. You are a ruffian and a fool. Do not fear my 
appearance, however. I abhor the disgraceful spectacle. 

Jack. Thank you. Remember, I am in terrible earnest. 
Goodbye! (Turning away.) 

Mrs. H. Stop, sir! This day has broken the last thread 
of a foolish sentiment, obtained by fraud and wasted by folly. 
We are strangers, sir. Do not presume to address me again! 

(Exit Jack by R. rear. As Mrs. Harwinton is about to go 

out by L. front , she is met by Miss Douglas and Ethel com¬ 
ing in arm in arm.) 

Miss D. How heated you look, dear Mrs. Harwinton. 
What is the matter? 


A POINT OP HONOR. 


45 ' 


Mrs. H. Nothing of importance. I feel somewhat fatigued. 

Miss D. Let us sit down. (Mrs. Harwinton and Miss 
Douglas sit down on seat L . front . Ethel goes to It. rear 
and gazes at scenery.) I was afraid someone had been annoy¬ 
ing you. One isn’t safe here for a moment. Three gentle¬ 
men have already addressed me this morning, and only faded 
into excuses when I paralyzed them with a glance. 

Ethel {turning lack with a smile). You did not seem to 
fear them, Miss Douglas. 

Miss D. Fear them? Bless you, no! It is only the per¬ 
plexity. 

Mrs. H. Perplexity? About what? 

Miss D. ( business with fan). Why, you don’t know whether 
it’s an English duke or a German adventurer that addresses 
you. Both speak equally bad French and dress equally loud. 
But one shouldn’t like to snub the duke. 

Ethel. I can bear witness that you snubbed all three- 
alike. {Returns to R. rear.) 

Miss D. And the gamblers! They are the serpents in 
this paradise — for a paradise it is beyond doubt. Who do- 
you think is here? 

Mrs. H. Do you mean the Doctor? He has been with 
Mr. Sturgis for a month. 

Miss D. I know that. I have had trouble enough to- 
keep out of his way. Oh, no! The other. 

Mrs. H. Not Mr. Courtney? 

Miss D. Himself, in life size. I had hardly inspected: 
the masculine world before Mr. Courtney presented himself. 

Mrs. H. {glancing to R.) I think he is coming now. 

(Arthur Courtney enters.) 

Miss D. Speak of the wolf — 

Arthur. Who is the wolf? and who will be the lamb? 
Good morning ladies. Very gay place. 

Miss D. {ecstatically). It is lovely! One lives in an azure 
and golden dream. The buried Atlantis, risen from the 
waves! 

Arthur {stares). You should write .verses Miss Douglas.. 
Fact! 

Mrs. H. There is perhaps more poetry in Miss Douglas’s 
temperament than — 

Miss D. {quickly). In Ethel’s sad and sentimental face.. 
{Aside.) Do cheer the girl, who looks like Eve seeking a 
lost Eden. ' 

Mrs. H. {shaking her head smiling). What has brought 
you here, Mr. Courtney. The place or the play ? 


46 


A POINT OP HONOR. 


Arthur. Couldn’t help coming, Miss Douglas, you know. 

Miss D. Have you been at the green tables ? 

Arthur. No. There is but one stake I play to win. 

(Mrs. Harwinton smiles and crosses to R ., joining Ethel.) 

Miss D. ( after a pause). Perhaps you would break the 
bank. (Business.) Suppose you lose, what then ? 

Arthur (earnestly). What happens to people that lose at 
Monaco? (Makes gesture of drawing pistol.) Piff; paff; 
puff. —Director explains — it was simply an accident! 

Miss D. Do not treat these things lightly. They curdle 
my blood. 

Arthur. Everybody knows. Fifty suicides a year. 

Miss D. But not for love. (Approaching Mrs. Harwin¬ 
ton and Ethel at the fountain.) When a man loses at 
Monaco he evidently throws his brains after his money. 
What does a woman do ? 

Mrs. II. She throws her character after hers or — 

Arthur. Or is found asleep next morning, with the smell 
of coal gas in the room. 

Ethel. I am surprised you should dwell on this theme. 
To me Monaco seems fairy land, I do not look for the dark 
sides. 

Mrs. H. The brightness is here. The darkness each 
brings in his own breast. What are gorgeous skies and 
dazzling seas to one with a great sorrow at heart? (Turns 
away shading her eyes.) 

Ethel ( looking doicn sadly). It is true, it is true ! The 
only brightness is that which comes from within ! 

Miss D. (to Ethel and. Mrs. H.). If you two grow senti¬ 
mental I shall drown myself. That will be suicide at Monaco 
for a new reason. 

Ethel. Not everyone has the gift of content with what¬ 
ever is. 

Miss D. I have, and 1 glory in it. Common-sense is 
worth all the sentiment in the world, but it isn’t so cheaply 
gotten. It’s an American commodity, and those are always 
dear. 

Mrs. H. Thank you. We were really getting quite sad. 
What with the gambling, and the suicides, we are forgetting 
that this is the gayest place in Europe, and — that lunch 
time approaches. 

Arthur. Best remedy for sentiment. 

Mrs. II. Let us have it at once, and in the cafe. Come 
Ethel! 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


47 


{Exit all , while Miss Douglas says:) 

Miss D. / am the only one that has the right to be 
hungry. ‘ ‘ Sentimenters ” should feed on emotion. {Exeunt 
Omnes.) 

{Enter Mr. Sturgis and Dr. Pellet. They come in slowly , 

Mr. Sturgis leaning on a cane and led Iry the Doctor.) 

Mr. St. {stopping). This air has clone more for me than 
all your medicine, doctor. 

Dr. P. Many pardons. May I suggest that my medicine 
has kept you where this air is accessible ? 

Mr. St. {talcing position loft front). Well, yes, I was very, 
very sick. 

Dr. P. 1 never before saw quite so sick a man recover. 
Many pardons. May I say it was a miracle ? 

Mr. St. A miracle of good science and careful attention. 
I know what the Roman fever is, Doctor. {Earnestly.) You 
have saved my life ! 

Dr. P. My dear friend, sit down. You are weak and — 
many pardons — gratitude is a heavy burden to most people. 

Mr. St. {talces a seat slowly). Not to me, Doctor, you will 
find. I value life and life’s work. And I look upon gratitude 
as a proper debt to be honestly discharged. 

Dr. P. May I ? {Offers a parvule) to tone you up a 
little. {Talces it hack again.) Excuse me! {Laughs.) In¬ 
stead of a nerve tonic I was about to give you my new 
specific. {Laughs.) Many pardons. That would not have 
answered at all. {Toughs.) 

Mr. St. Why ? Wffiat is it ? 

Dr. P. A cure for love! {Laughs.) A kill-Cupid parvule. 
I invented it when Miss Douglas had gone, and called it 
Mort d’ Amour, the Death-of Love. Now she is here! — I 
shall not need it. 

Mr. St. The Roman fever, if not as efficacious as your 
jiarvule — still, goes a great way. 

Dr. P. Many pardons. That recalls the point. You do 
not carry your gratitude to the right place. 

Mr. St. Why? I thank God and you, doctor. 

Dr. P. There is one who has done more for you than 
cither of us. — Many pardons. I don’t mean that. He has 
done more for you than I. 

Mr. St. Who? 

Dr. P. Your nephew Paul Stafford. 

Mr. St. {i'ising angrily). Do not name him! {After a 
pause of refection.) What has he done ? 


48 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Dr. P. Everything. (With dignity.) The poor boy 
heard of your illness in New York, at your office. He 
sought me in great excitement. I believe if I had not come 
with him at once he would have carried me off bodily. 
The news came by telegraph. We went by that day’s 
steamer. Through France we rushed, without rest with 
.hardly anything to eat, and a fortnight after your attack 
Paul was here, nursing you with all the tenderness of a 
woman. 

Mr. St. (in great agitation). Paul nursed me? (Pauses.) 
Go on! 

Dr. P. For four weeks you were crazy, talking with the 
pictures on the wall, aud crying that they put cut their hands 
•to choke you. Paul was with you day and night. How he 
lived, how he controlled you, how he fed you, is one of those 
miracles of the sick room which seem to declare that the 
good God gives especial help to meet especial emergencies. 

Mr. St. And Paul did this! 

Dr. P. He did it with a devotion that bordered on mad¬ 
ness, for your fever was contagious. When the crisis was 
past and consciousness returned, Paul disappeared from your 
sight, but couducted through your servant your further nurs¬ 
ing, till you were able to leave the room. 

Mr. St. (in thought). Paul brought you here?—and he 
nursed me ? — hem, hem! (Agitated; business with cane.) 

Dr. P. Many pardons. Paul saved your life. Seriously 
and sincerely my medicine would have been of no avail with¬ 
out his care. 

Mr. St. (quickly). Where is he now? 

Dr. P. Perhaps at Nice. I have not seen him since he 
left, over a week ago. 

Mr. St. Doctor, I feel weak. (He sits heavily , as if ex¬ 
hausted.) Give me a nerve parvule. 

Dr. P. Certainly. (Business with parvules.) 

Mr. St. (smiling sadly). No matter if it is the Mort d’ 
Amour. 

(Enter Mrs. Harwinton L.) 

Mrs. H. Good morning Doctor. Have you seen my 
parasol ? (Perceives Mr. Sturgis.) My dear friend, this is a 
new venture. The first time you have been on the Esplanade. 
I am very, very glad. 

Mr. St. Thanks! (Hold her hands.) Life is sw r eet after 
all. Mrs. Harwinton, will you not relieve the doctor, and 
take charge of this broken down person for a little while? 

Mrs. H. (nodding). With much pleasure. Doctor, Miss 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


49 


Douglas is iu the conversation room, and you will find 
another old friend there, Mr. Courtney. 

Dr. P. {With disgust ). Mr. Courtney? Many pardons. 
I will go in. He does bore Miss Douglas so much. {Exit 
Dr. Pellet.) 

(Mr. Sturgis rises and icalks excitedly across the stage.) 

Mrs. H. You will tire yourself. Slowly, my dear friend. 

Mr. St. I cannot. My body creeps, but my heart beats 
like a trip-hammer. Did you know that Paul nursed me? 

Mrs. H. {hesitates and turns away. Then with resolution.) 
John, he was more devoted than a son could have been. He 
is a noble young man, who risked his life to save yours. 

Mr. St. And yet, with my own ears I heard his perfidious 
words. 

Mrs. H. Was it perfidy? 

Mr. St. Did he not strive to win Ethel’s love ? 

Mrs. H. But, if he loved her ? John, Paul is young, and 
youth has onty one deep emotion — love! Youth is incon¬ 
siderate of others, youth is selfish, youth leaps over every 
barrier; but, John, it is youth , and — we were young once. 

Mr. St. We were — and we loved each other. {Pause.) 
Rose, what shall I do? This fever has made me old and 
weak. I cannot decide. 

Mrs. IJ. Forgive Paul, who loves you. Forgive him, 
and— ( Hesitates .) 

Mr. St. And ? 

Mrs. H. {glancing around). And — ask Ethel. She is 
coming, and I will resign my guardianship to her. {To L. 
hack.) 

Ethel {enters, and says to Mrs. Harwinton, who is passing 
hack). Every one is in the conversation-room, and I am sent 
for you. {Perceiving Mr. Sturgis, she approaches him with 
extended hands , speaking warmly). I congratulate you most 
heartily. How do you like out-doors? 

Mr. St. {taking both her hands). It would be a blessing 
anywhere. Here it is happiness. 

Ethel. Will you come with us ? 

Mr. St. No, thanks. We will let Mrs. Harwinton rejoin 
her party. Will you take care of me for a little while? 

Ethel ( nervously ). Certainly. But I am dull company of 
late. 

Mr. St. The Doctor said you were not well. 

Mrs. H. Nervous depression. A fashionable illness now- 
a-days. {Going.) You will rejoin us soon. {Exit.) 

5 


50 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


Mr. St. Permit me to sit down, Ethel. I have some¬ 
thing to say to you. ( Sits L. front.') 

Ethel {with down-cast eyes, arranging her shawl around 
him). Certainly, sir. ( She remains standing at a little dis¬ 
tance from his chair , to the rear and center.) 

Mr. St. We have been engaged for some time, Ethel, and 
should begin to think of marriage. This sickness will make 
a difference. 

Ethel {turning away). Pray arrange everything as you 
think best. 

Mr. St. I will try. There is one point, however, I must 
touch upon, embarrassing as it is. (Ethel one step to front, 
agitated.) You know what Paul has done for me in the last 
few weeks? 

Ethel. How should I not? Oh, sir! 

Mr. St. Yes. I owe my life to him. That is a debt of 
honor hard to pay. 

Ethel {deeply moved). Let me speak to you, Mr. Sturgis. 
You should know — 

Mr. St. {interrupting her). I begin to Icnow. A long ill¬ 
ness or a great danger sometimes restores the vision to blind 
eyes. Paul loves you. {Observes her closely.) 

Ethel {passionately). Do not be angry with him! It is 
a fancy, a self-deception. He is a great hearted gentleman, 
and {turning away, her hand upon her heart) he will forget it. 

Mr. St. Such things are not easily forgotten. {He draws 
figures with his cane on the ground. After a pause, looking up 
under his brows.) Have you ever cared for Paul? 

(Ethel to R.; business with handkerchief to eyes.) 

Mr. St. {rises slowly and crosses to her side.) Tell me, Ethel, 
as you would to your father: do you love him? 

Ethel {softly). Do not ask me. {Looking up). Mr. Stur¬ 
gis, I will be true and loyal to my promise, and to you. 

Mr. St. Softly, my child. How came it all ? 

Ethel. You brought him to our home on the Hudson, 
years ago. Since then, I have thought of him with a girl’s 
secret hero worship. For years he was my ideal — though I 
never expected to meet him again. 

Mr. St. And when you did meet. What then ? 

Ethel (blushing). He had forgotten me —and brought 
your message. 

Mr. St. But you accepted — 

Ethel. And shall keep my word. You have been noble 
and generous to me, sir! You have restored my father’s 
name. And, what Ethel Fairchild has promised, she will 
know how to perform in truth and honesty. 


A POTNT OF HONOR. 


51 


Mr. St. Even if I do not exact it ? 

Ethel. I am my father’s daughter ( crosses behind him to 
center ), and he died when lie could not meet his obligations. 

Mr. St. ( after a pause during which they have looked at each 
other). Ethel, I have something to confess to you! 

Ethel. To me ? 

Mr. St. Yes. Years ago, Mrs. Harwinton and I were 
promised in marriage. Others caused a separation, but my 
regard for her has never ceased. That is the reason I have 
not married. 

Ethel. And Mrs. Harwinton ? 

Mr. St. I know not her feelings. But, since my illness 
it has become evident to me I have made a mistake. I can¬ 
not transfer to another the sentiments of my youth. And 
marry without them — I must not! 

Ethel {greatly excited). You mean, you cannot — 

Mr. St. I mean, Ethel, that I have no further claim on 
your hand! 

Ethel {tremulously). Mr. Sturgis, 1 cannot understand — 
{In a strong voice.) Do you free me from my promise ? {He 
boxes.) But you have redeemed my father’s name — and I — 
Mr. St. Leave that to your future husband, Paul Stafford, 
and to me! {Puts his arm kindly around her.) 

Ethel {hides her face on his shoulder. with a cry of joy). 
Mr. Sturgis! 

{Enter Dr. Pellet and Miss Douglas, Mrs. Harwinton 
and Arthur Courtney, promenading. Mr. Sturgis and 
Ethel slowly separates.) 

Miss D. {with a start). I beg pardon. {I'o Doctor.) Doctor, 
you must analyze the air of the Riviera. It is full of two 
passions, love and gaming. — Who does not succumb to the 
one, must fall victim to the other. 

Arthur. Yaas. Your heart or your purse. 

Miss D. Perhaps both together. 

Dr. P. {to Miss D.). Many pardons. May I cry: Stand 
and deliver! 

Miss D. {shaking her head). Many cry. Few are answered. 
{Turning around.) Dear Mrs. Harwinton, here is the gentle¬ 
man we met at your house. 

Mrs. H. My husband! ( Hastens to R. back.) What can 

be the matter ? 

{Entei' Jack Harwinton, very pale, carrying a handkerchief 
full of banknotes and gold in his right hand — his left pressed 
to his side. During the scene one corner becomes detached, and 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


no 


gold pieces roll over the stage. He is supported by Paul 

Stafford.) 

Jack. I have a sharp pain here? Thank you, sir. I 
should have fallen but for you! 

Mrs. H. (hastening to his side.) Are you ill? 

Jack. Ill? {straightening with a - forced laugh.) Think a 
man is ill who has broken the bank? Only — a little tired. 
{He speaks the last words with difficulty , gasping.) 

Mr. St. Doctor, take care of him. He is falling. 
(Dr. Pellet hastens to his side and with Paul, assists him to 
a seat.) 

Jack {turns to Mrs. Harwinton, steadying on hack of seat , 
and speaking stronger. Rose, you were wrong. My combina¬ 
tion swept everything. I tell you it worked like a charm. 
Look at this! {Holds up the handkerchief.) 

Dr. P. Sit down. Many pardons. {Presses him into seat.) 
Do not speak. {Feels his pulse.) 

Jack {in a voice of agony.) There is such a pain here. 
{presses hand to side.) Ah! {after a moment’s pause, he rises 
sloicly.) Wait till I get to New York, I will have my 
revenge {fiercely stepping forward.) The man that has 
bursted Monte Carlo, can break every bank in New York. 
Why don’t you congratulate me? 

Paul. You are not well. Let the doctor take you home. 

Jack. Not well? (laughs.) How can a man be ill with 
this? {to Dr. Pell.) It teas exciting. The large French¬ 
woman stood opposite. She brought my luck. 

Dr. P. I will go with you. 

Jack. Iam — only — a little tired, {pause, during which 
he leans on the Doctor. Then nervously to Mrs. Harwinton.) 
I told you I would beat them. Five thousand francs to 
start. — Double. Double again. And now it’s mine. — 
Wait a little. Now the combination comes. (He steps for¬ 
ward and acts the description). An interval. How my heart 
beat — but I held back. Now the numbers are right once 
more. In this time. Five thousand. Double! Double 
again! Everybody looks. No one tries to play. All watch: 
me. —And now again.—They change the dealer (< laughs 
wildly). No use. My combination holds true. Win it is 
again! — But now I’m off. The numbers are not right. The 
crowd thinks I am done. — Oh no! Here they come again. 
It’s win, I tell you. Again, and again, and again! — Change 
your dealer! — No use. —Let the old man himself try. —I’ll 
beat every one of you. How the gold piles, and the thou¬ 
sand franc notes, and the ten thousand! (Laughs, holding his 
side). There’s half a million in this handkerchief. (Lifts it. 


A POINT OF HONOR. 


53 


then screams and staggers hack.) Oh no! just — a little — 
tired. Couldn’t stop — while the luck lasted. Bank — gave 
up — Ah! (sci'eams.) 

Dr. P. Come, come; I ’ll support you! {Puts his arm 
around Jack, and draws him from stage in a half fainting con¬ 
dition. At the edge of the scene Jack turns once more with a 
ghastly laugh , and move of handkerchief. L. exit Dr. P. and 
Jack.) 

Mrs. H. This is horrible! {She turns away and icalks 
toward the side where Jack has gone.) 

Mr. St. {steps forward and grasps Paul’s hand). My dear 
Paul! I am alive — and I thank you for it. 

Paul {returning the grasp). You make me very happy. 

Mr. St. I shall try. My dear Ethel (leads Ethel to Paul), 
will you not help me to secure the happiness of this young 
man? 

Paul {confused ; then pale and resolute). Pardon me. You 
know how I regard Ethel Fairchild. I love her, and I can¬ 
not change my heart. Having won your pardon, I shall go 
forth content, and in life’s battle wear out a sentiment I can 
never conquer. (To Mr. St.) Farewell. (To Ethel.) Fare¬ 
well, dear, dear Ethel. 

Ethel (puts her hand on Paul’s arm). No, Paul! It is 
not thus we part. Mr. Sturgis returns me my promise. 

Paul (stepping hack). Because I did a son’s duty by him 
during his sickness, when he had done a father’s duty by me 
all my life? No! I am in my reason, and will not claim 
such a sacrifice. If one heart must suffer, the younger shall 
bear the burden. 

Mr. St. It is not for this, Paul. She is yours by my 
desire. Will you refuse her? (Tenderly.) Has her heart no 
claim? 

Paul (< embraces her). Ethel my darling! 

(Enter Dr. Pellett in great haste.) 

Dr. P. Many pardons! He’s dead. 

All. Who? 

Dr. P. Mr. Harwinton. Paralysis of the heart. 

Mrs. H. (who is on seat to front , rises, comes forward , and 
then grows faint and totters). Poor Jack! 

Mr. St. (supports her). Rose, let me be your friend, now. 

Mrs. H. (her head on his shoulder, or taking his hand). The 
dearest and best! 

Miss D. Why did you not save him, Doctor? 

Dr. P. Many pardons. Did case of heart disease. No 
chance. 


54 


A POINT OP HONOR. 


Arthur (to Miss D.). Here is another case of heart 
disease. Any chance ? Will you not cure it, Miss Douglas? 
(Holds his hand out to her.) 

Miss D. (talcing his hand). Well, if the Doctor cannot, I 
really must try. (Arthur hisses her.) 

Dr. P. (staring at them). Many pardons. May I — (takes 
out case of parvules) confound it, it is treason. Miss Douglas, 
you don’t mean to accept this young man as your — 

Miss D. Husband to be! Why, Doctor, I would surely 
have prefered you — surely — but I was afraid I should have 
to take parvules all my life. You might not always have 
liked me — and — a mistake happens so easily. 

Dr. P. (angrily). It is an insult to the profession. I hope 
you will die — sometime. Fortunately, I have my new 
specific, the Mort d’ Amour. (Business with parvules.) I 
shall take the whole bottle and bid defiance to love “ forever 
and forever ! ” 

Curtain. 

Ethel and Paul. 

Mr. Sturgis. Miss Douglas. 

Mrs. Harwinton. Doctor. Arthur. 


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